Nightmare
by Sayyoulavame
Summary: Elizabeth Boscoe; 95 years old and entirely unchanged from her roaring 20's. No one knows how she's survived so long, but Steve Rogers is just pleased he's awoken in a strange time and found a friend. While her power is limitless, she is not and striking a balance between unimaginable power and a fragile body becomes more difficult when a fellow Hydra asset appears.
1. Chapter 1

"Steve no." Elizabeth pouted, grudgingly following his quick steps regardless of her obvious annoyance. She had been perfectly happy this morning, wrapped in her comforter and enjoying a surprisingly restful slumber until Steve had _insisted_ on waking her so that they could go for a run. Elizabeth had practically bitten his head off at the suggestion but Steve had always been able to convince her to do something, usually employing his signature 'sad eyes'.

A chuckle sounded from before her then, snapping her back to the present, resonating from Steve as he strode purposefully ahead of her. "Running's good for you, Lizzy." The tone he used was full of his usual zest for life and American spirit; it did nothing but aggravate Elizabeth further.

Smiling despite herself, she replied. "Yeah but…" she paused momentarily, attempting to think up some form of a snappy comeback and failing entirely. "I swear running doesn't even effect _your_ fitness anyway– you could just stop moving forever and you'd still be fit as a fiddle." The whiny tone she used was reminiscent of a child's, but she didn't care.

Another chuckle sounded ahead of her. "Yeah that's me though, not you Lizzy." And, without another word or even waiting for a likely disjointed reply, he took off running.

She groaned before taking off after him, running quite significantly slower than he. Wistfully, she remembered a time when Steve could barely run more than three meters without having to stop and catch his breath. "Slow down!" There was certainly no point in yelling for him to wait, he was likely out of earshot entirely by now.

As Steve's figure practically ran off into the sunset, she caught sight of another running man. Speeding up just slightly to reach this new figure, she set her pace beside him. The man seemed to share her aggravated glance towards Steve's rapidly repeating figure and she guessed Steve had passed this man. "Hey." The man almost jumped out of his skin at her introduction as his head whipped towards her, almost dangerously fast, in surprise. "Sorry," she told him almost timidly, trying not to laugh.

"Nah, it's fine." He told her with a smile. Still running, he held a hand out for her. "Name's Sam."

Clasping his hand awkwardly for a moment before letting it drop, she replied. "Elizabeth."

"Well," he began, looking ahead, "nice to meet you." Then, gesturing forward, he asked, "he with you?"

Barking out a laugh she nodded with a smile. "Unfortunately, yeah."

"So," he seemed unsure whether or not he should say something. She guessed that he had figured out who Steve really was and wasn't quite sure whether or not he should bring it up.

"Yeah?" She pushed him, doubting that he was about to say anything vastly offensive.

He gestured forwards again, obviously towards Steve – despite the fact that he was likely already behind them once more – and spoke. "I'm guessing, Steve Rogers?"

Laughing she nodded. "What gave him away?" Was her sarcastic reply.

"What didn't?" Elizabeth was quickly deciding that she liked Sam, he seemed down to earth and she felt as though they would get along rather well. It helped that he wasn't fan-boying too intensely over Captain America, something that Elizabeth had been forced to endure almost every time she met new people. "So, that would make you Elizabeth Barnes, right?"

After all these years, her heart still clenched painfully. "Uh, it's Boscoe… not Barnes." Elizabeth could have kicked herself, her voice sounded so small. Seventy- five years and a single name still managed to stop her short.

Sam quickly seemed to pick up on the fact that he had hit a nerve and thankfully didn't push the subject further. "Oh yeah, of course." They fell into silence after that, as Elizabeth suddenly lacked the required energy to make light-hearted conversation.

Thankfully, Steve interrupted their silent jogging by coming up on their left. Opposing his normal routine of simply running past her and saying something aggravating about how slow she was by comparison, he actually slowed right down to run beside her. Looking towards him, a dubious expression taking over her features, she raised her eyebrows. "Err, you alright Steve?"

"Why don't we give it a try?" As he asked he looked down at her with a reassuring smile but his words made her feel anything but calm.

"I don't know Steve…" she told him, her eyes darting around while her hands clasped together awkwardly.

Elizabeth hadn't even noticed that the trio had stopped running as she panicked over what was being asked of her. "There's no one around Lizzy, it's now or never."

"Well Sam's here." She noted quickly, hoping to get out of what he was suggesting.

Sam then threw his hands up defensively. "My lips are sealed." She could see the curiosity sparking brightly in his eyes and realized it had been idiotic to think he would help her avoid Steve's request. She guessed that he had some knowledge of her ability, after the trouble with Loki in 2012 almost everybody seemed to know far too much about her.

Huffing in annoyance, realizing there was almost no chance of her getting out of this, she grumbled a reply. "Fine."

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, breathing deeply to settle her nerves, she concentrated hard on the muscles of her legs and Elizabeth opened her eyes once more. This time they were glowing white. Distantly, she heard Sam utter a surprised noise but she barely even noticed. Concentrating on the movement of Calcium ions within her muscles and on just generally pushing her legs to move faster, Elizabeth began to run.

* * *

Ever since he had first discovered Elizabeth's abilities, back in 1925, Steve had struggled to wrap his head around the sight. Elizabeth's normally bright blue eyes had been replaced with an eerie, almost glowing, white color and her legs had been almost entirely surrounded by a faint black shadow. If he looked closely enough he knew that he would see the smoke-like substance pushing at her legs to move faster.

When he had first encountered her after being awoken from the ice the surprise that he had felt had been unimaginably huge but, as the original excitement had worn off, he had discovered that she was quite different. Her personality was largely unchanged but he had noticed how she seemed more harsh and unforgiving, almost always feeling some sort of anger at the world as a whole. The power she held had also dramatically increased, she had gone from performing parlor tricks; moving objects a few feet, to the ability to infiltrate the mind with enough concentration and energy.

While he had learned much about the progress in her abilities and the subtle, but somewhat stark, changes to her personality, she had told him practically nothing of her time while he was on the ice. There was almost an entire seventy year span that she refused to speak about. One of the few things that he actually knew was that Shield had recruited her in 1986 and that she had worked for them ever since.

"Wow." The man beside him was watching her run, faster than should be physically possible, with wisps of black smoke ghosting over her entire figure. Her golden hair, still insanely long despite being tied back, was floating on the wind behind her – as though it simply couldn't keep up with her speed.

Finding himself smirking, feeling somewhat proud of Elizabeth – as though she were a younger sibling having just mastered the art of riding a bike, Steve glanced towards the man who was watching her with distinct awe. Clapping a hand on his back, Steve smirked before running after his old friend. "C'mon man!" Sam's noisy complaint behind him caused a chuckle to escape his lips before he caught up with Elizabeth.

* * *

She had maintained her run for much longer than she had thought she could, she was decidedly surprised with herself – and secretly rather pleased. She had been expecting a nosebleed, a blinding headache and a faint within the first minute. It seemed she had come much farther than she had realized. Although, Elizabeth knew that she could do far more than run faster using her powers – back at Hydra, Elizabeth had been doing far more but somehow, those complex abilities had left her when she had escaped their clutches.

After the run, in which both she and Steve had lapped Sam several times – much to his aggravation, they had found him once more. It seemed that Steve wished to learn a little more about the guy, not that Elizabeth really had an issue with that – she too was curious.

They chatted for a while, learning a bit more about who Sam was. He informed them that he used to be a para-rescue, but now worked at the VA and he and Steve seemed to bond over shared army experience. As had become clear, he already knew who the two of them were but he seemed to be a little more understanding and reserved than most. She found his attitude a welcome change.

Tuning back into their conversation, Elizabeth felt suddenly annoyed. "Food's a lot better, we used to boil everything."

"Hey!" She complained, slapping his arm lightly. "I used to cook for you all the time! My food was excellent." Proudly finishing her sentence, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him – awaiting response.

"Okay," he conceded, rolling his eyes, "with the exception of Lizzy's food, the food's a lot better." Sam was chuckling at Steve's words and Elizabeth felt a little miffed. The number of times she had invited him over and cooked him a huge, loving meal in the hopes of fattening him up a little and here she was, finding that her efforts had been entirely underappreciated.

"Internet, so helpful." She had to agree there, the internet was a gold-mine of incredible information. "Been reading that a lot, trying to catch up." Hiding a smile, she thought back to how clueless Steve had been when he had first woken up and how far he had come from them. To begin with even the concept of the internet had been near impossible for her to explain to him.

"Marvin Gaye, 1972, Trouble Man soundtrack." Sam explained, causing Steve to pull out his adorable notebook of things to catch up on. "Everything you missed, jammed into one album." Elizabeth pulled her eyebrows together; _1972… that would be something she had missed as well_.

"I'll put it on the list." As Steve wrote the words scruffily, Elizabeth looked across to read through a few of the things on the list. _Moon Landing, Thai Food, Nirvana … God he was still very much a man out of time._ Elizabeth herself had been overcome with confusion and wonder upon entering the real world after her decades spent in small dark rooms.

Simultaneously, hers and Steve's phones chirped. Quickly checking the message, she huffed and looked back up to Sam with an almost genuine smile. _She couldn't even have one normal morning._ Steve shook his hand firmly, teasing him slightly about how slowly he had run, before Elizabeth grasped his hand more delicately. "See you around Sam."

His, much larger, warm hand shook hers slightly. "I hope so."

Smiling kindly, Elizabeth nodded before moving towards the car behind them.

* * *

 **Hi! Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story! I know it's a little short but I didn't want to overload in the first chapter. Please let me know what you think and I should upload a second chapter at some point this week! :) xx**


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth was barely even listening as Frank went through both their target and their instructions. She was too distracted with the minor shakes of their aircraft, she wasn't afraid – strangely the sensations of swaying back and forth on the whim of the wind and watching in awe as the sea stretched endlessly beyond the window were immensely pleasing to her. What did threaten to scare her, however, was the confining nature of the aircraft itself.

Elizabeth finally tuned back in when Steve began assigning jobs. "Nat, sweep the information centers, see if they're after anything else. Lizzy, you kill the engines and wait for instructions." Elizabeth nodded, not bothering to listen to the rest now that she had been assigned her job.

The large door at the back of the craft shuddered open suddenly, revealing the sound of roaring engines and crashing waves. Elizabeth walked towards the noise, like an innocent moth unknowingly drawn to the deathly flame. for just a moment, she was hypnotised by the sights and sounds of the moonlit water below. Turning back to Steve, she watched as he finished securing his helmet.

"Too shy or too scared?" Natasha asked him, Elizabeth fell short of rolling her eyes at the pair– Natasha was still trying to find Steve a girl it seemed.

"Too busy!" Steve yelled over his shoulder before casually strolling off the aircraft.

Shaking her head with a smirk at how much of a show off he had quickly become, Elizabeth shot a smile to Natasha before jumping out after him. Elizabeth had slowed herself during a free fall enough times to be able to do it almost automatically, she doubted her eyes even glowed white while she did it. Absently she watched the otherworldly tendrils of smoke weave through her fingers as she fell, some of the smoke made to escape into the night before disappearing entirely while the rest encapsulated her legs, almost like a cast, and worked to gradually slow her descent.

Steve had landed in the water, even he couldn't survive landing on the ship, but she had lightly touched down upon the upper decks – beside a helicopter. Peering through the tinted windows of the helicopter, Elizabeth could just make out the silhouette of a man – shuffling his feet almost awkwardly as he stood by the helicopter. Silently, Elizabeth sent a sweeping wave of black smoke underneath the copter. Tentatively, she sent the tendrils up behind the man – towards his head – hoping he wouldn't feel the prickles of contact as it passed over his clothes. Finally, the wisps reached his head. The tendrils gained the illusion of solidity then, before they morphed into the shape of two hands that viciously grasped his head and smashed it back into the helicopter. When the tendrils disappeared entirely, the now unconscious figure crumpled to the floor.

The almost silent sounds of a scuffle below alerted her to the fact that Steve had also boarded the ship. Silently jumping down before him, she watched as Steve dealt with the hostile. "You alright?" He asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Yep. Ready to go?"

* * *

She seemed preoccupied, he thought.

She had barely listened to Rumlow's instructions, seeming more content to just stand and sway on the aircraft. When he had opened the door, readying to jump from the plane, she had seemed transfixed by something beyond even the sea.

He could recall her slipping into phases like this before the war, a phase of some sort of flat apathy, and it had always made him feel a little helpless. Steve could never even discern a cause, let alone a cure, for these moods and thus he never knew what to do or say to her. One particularly difficult winter, after the death of Elizabeth's father, he had gone so far as to ask Bucky about it – such was his worry. His friend had reassured him, letting him know that Elizabeth _was_ still herself and that the best thing either of them could do was to just be there for her – giving her time.

 _1937_

 _"_ _I don't know, Buck." He told him honestly, unsure about the prospect of yet another, likely unsuccessful, double date. "What d'you think Lizzy?" He knew that Lizzy would be honest with him about the suitability of the girl Bucky had found for him._

 _There was no response, and so he glanced up to her now despondent features. She was staring off at a crowded table of girls, all giggling and chattering, but she wasn't really seeing anything. "Lizzy?" He asked again, leaning forward slightly – as though closeness was going to aid him in getting through to her somehow._

 _A large hand upon his arm held him back a little and, upon looking at Bucky, he backed off entirely. Bucky wasn't looking at him at all, his eyes were flickering over Elizabeth's blank face. Concern was sparkling within the blue hues and Steve was sure that his own gaze was filled with the same emotion. Despite his worry, Steve sat back, allowing Bucky to speak with her._

 _Leaning forward, Bucky grabbed hold of her hands, which had been uselessly lying upon the table, and gently pulled her around to face him. She didn't look up at him straight away, something which Steve found immensely surprising._

 _"_ _Betty?" Steve felt his eyebrows raise, she hated being called 'Betty'. A small sigh sounded from Bucky then. "C'mon Betty."_

 _Looking down at their hands, Steve noted that while Bucky's hands were gripping hers she was only just beginning to return the gesture. A small smirk upturned Bucky's lips then, "c'mon Betty." As he spoke the phrase once more, he shook her hands slightly._

 _Finally, she looked up at him. Her eyes were still distant but her lips pulled up just slightly – her smile was almost pained and clearly fake but he supposed it was still an improvement on her previous blank stare. "Don't call me Betty."_

 _Giving a slight chuckle, Bucky moved a hand up to her face – pushing her golden hair from her eyes. "Okay Doll." They remained that way for a little while, and Steve felt an awful sense that he was intruding on something. Unsure of what to do or where to look, he glanced down to his hands and twiddled his thumbs awkwardly. "Wanna go home?"_

 _"_ _Yeah."_

 _Bucky then stood, pulling her up with him. Then, turning to a still seated Steve, he spoke. "We're gonna head off. Don't get into trouble, alright?" Despite his teasing smirk, Steve could see that his friend was a little troubled._

 _"_ _Yeah, no – I was going to leave soon anyway." That wasn't entirely true, Steve had actually been having a surprisingly good time but he could see that something was wrong._

 _"_ _See you tomorrow Steve." With that, the two of them left hand in hand- Elizabeth didn't even say goodbye._

* * *

They fought their way through a few unsuspecting pirates, Steve mainly utilizing his shield while Elizabeth used a mix of black smoke and close combat. Seeing her fight was always going to be strange for Steve, she was always strong willed but watching her knock four heavily armed pirates to the ground was a little odd. Together they had little trouble in neutralizing all the soldiers on the top decks, in fact the only man that even got closed to stopping them was finished by Rumlow.

His eyes quickly found Elizabeth, almost as though he had trained himself to do so – after all, he had promised to look out for her. She was stood by the railings, her fingertips grazing over the metal, as she looked down at the waves knocking against the vessel.

"What about the nurse that lives across the hall from you?" Natasha's words quickly drew his preoccupied attention. "She seems kind of nice." Trying not to think about his neighbor, and subconsciously agree with Natasha – he simply replied, attempting nonchalance.

"Find information, then find me a date."

"I'm multi-tasking." She told him, before disappearing entirely.

Moving over to Elizabeth, he lowered his voice – trying to be soothing. "Lizzy?"

Her entire frame jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, signalling how zoned out she had become. "Huh?" She asked, glancing up at Steve. "Oh the engines, got it." Snapping her fingers, she nodded before starting to hurry away.

Catching her arm before she could escape, he asked; "you alright?"

Showing him an all too bright smile, she nodded, before leaving to execute her part of the plan.

* * *

She almost felt bad.

Things had been a little awkward between herself and Steve upon their reunion, their lives – especially hers – had changed so dramatically from when they had first met that there was a small struggle to reconcile each-other with the people that they had once known. It had taken a little while but they were finally back to normal and she felt as though she were now ruining all their progress. She knew all of this and yet she was struggling to do anything about it - struggling to find the energy to care too much.

When she arrived at the engines, Elizabeth found herself standing behind a man who was speaking on the phone. Waiting for him to hang up, so as not to cause suspicion in whomever he was speaking with, she used her shadows to force his head into the wall before he fell unconscious, Elizabeth was left staring at a large dent in the ship wall. _Perhaps she had hit him just a little harder than she had intended._ Ignoring her almost guilty thoughts, Elizabeth looked over the railing and pulled out two pistols.

Securing the room didn't take long at all - it was all surprisingly easy actually.

Dropping down to the main room, where the main engines were located – she heard voices in her ear. _"Status Lizzy?"_

She didn't reply, instead she employed a move she had seen Natasha use before. Using her power to propel her forward, she used the wall to provide height before launching at the lone soldier in the room. Wrapping her legs around the man, one hooked beneath his arm and the other around his neck, she swung her body causing the man to be violently thrown to the floor.

Another man ran in, just as she had regained her footing. Huffing, feeling as though all she really wanted was to go to bed, Elizabeth sent a formidable force in all directions. The man before her, and another that she had not yet noticed both flew back into walls – there was the sickening crack of both bone and wall before silence fell.

Elizabeth knew that she was supposed to shut down the engines entirely, make them useless by employing her power, but she supposed that now all the men within the room were incapacitated there was really no need.

Wiping away the blood that had trickled from her nose, indicating she wouldn't be able to sustain her power for much longer, Elizabeth sat down – waiting for the others to succeed.

 _"_ _Lizzy?!"_ Steve's concern was clear over the crackling radio and Lizzy immediately went to reply, having entirely forgotten that Steve had been awaiting a reply.

"Engine room's secure."

* * *

 **Hey! So I know it's not even been 24hrs since I started this story but I figured it would be a good plan to get three chapters out this week and then start doing weekly updates, just so the story feels at least a little underway! I also promise that, while this story does follow CA:WS, this is one of very few chapters that will just feel like an entire rewrite of a scene from the movie! So expect another update tomorrow and then weekly updates on Mondays! I will stop talking now, please let me know what you think! :) xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

They had finally made it back to their apartment in the early hours of the morning and while Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to go to bed, Steve had other ideas. After raving to her for an hour or so about the lack of communication between himself and Fury, he had eventually decided on marching down to the tri-skeleton and confronting Fury in person. Elizabeth had had no objections, content to sleep the rest of the day away, hence her surprise when the shrill ring of the phone pulled her from her slumber.

"Hello?" She asked down the phone, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Hey Lizzy, did I wake you?" It was Steve, she could recognize his voice anywhere.

"No, not at all Steve." She implored, with a voice filled with sarcasm and laughter.

A chuckle sounded from the receiver and she could almost imagine him smirking. "Sorry Lizzy." There was a short pause, Elizabeth sensed he was unsure of himself.

"Steve?" She pushed, hoping he hadn't woken her up for nothing.

"I'm going to the museum," she knew where he was going with this, "I… wanted you to come with me."

"Steve-" she was quickly cut off by his voice once more.

"I know, Lizzy. I just," the way he trailed off – sadly – was almost enough to change her mind, "I guess I just thought it might be… good for you."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she sat up entirely. "You're right Steve, but…" running a hand through her thick hair, she huffed before continuing. "I just _can't_ Steve."

"It's okay Lizzy." He seemed a little disappointed but relatively unsurprised. "I'll uh – I'll be back soon alright?"

Feeling entirely guilty, but lacking the energy to change her mind, Elizabeth attempted to keep him on the phone. "Wait Steve!"

"Yeah?"

"What did Fury have to say?" Elizabeth was genuinely interested, despite her apparent lack of care earlier.

A pause on the phone let her know that it hadn't gone well. "We'll talk about it when I get back, okay Lizzy?"

Feeling her eyebrows pull together in concern, Lizzy begrudgingly accepted his words. "Okay Stevie, see you soon."

"Please don't call me – "

Hanging up with a chuckle, Elizabeth stood from the bed – stretching her arms out above her as the very tips of her hair tickled her bare thighs. Scooping a crumpled pair of grey sweatpants from the floor, and struggling to shrug them on, she made her way into the kitchenette.

Quickly finishing a bowl of cereal, having suddenly felt an intense hunger in her empty stomach, she moved towards the window – twirling her necklace around her fingers absently. After a brief while merely watching the various scenes unfolding outside the window, Elizabeth looked down to the rings she had attached to the silver chain.

One ring was a brilliant silver band, entirely untarnished and with a once brilliant black jewel resting within the claws of metal. The black of the stone was almost unimaginable, sometimes it seemed as though she were looking into an abyss of emptiness. Her father had informed her that the jewel had once shone with an unearthly brilliance, as though lit by moonlight, but soon after her birth it had become nothing more than a dull rock. It had been her mother's ring and was thus the only remnant of her that Elizabeth had left.

The other ring, was a silver band with a delicate engraving upon the inside and a small, still sparkling garnet mounted upon the silver band. It was understated and simple, but beautiful nonetheless. She could still remember the night she had received the ring as vividly as if it had been only yesterday – at one point it had been the happiest moment of her life, now it brought her pain and not much else.

* * *

 _May 1939_

 _"_ _Happy birthday!" The jovial shout near her ear was the only warning she received before arms snaked around her waist and she was lifted into the air. After spinning her around once, coaxing a yelp of confusion from Elizabeth, her attacker placed her back on her feet._

 _Whirling to face him, Elizabeth couldn't quite hide her smile. Failing to fake complete sternness, she lightly scolded him. "Jeez Bucky, you scared me!" It was clear to see that her complaint was half-hearted as she looked up at his smirk. She had been starting to worry that she wouldn't see him all day._

 _She had already seen Steve, he had given her a sweet little gift – a set of pencils. He clearly knew how much she enjoyed drawing, despite how terrible an artist she was, and had always pushed at her to keep going at it. She only hoped that one day she would be half as good as he._

 _And now, cornered on the porch outside her little house, she was with Bucky. "Sorry Lizzy." He wasn't sorry, she could tell by his wide smile. Lacking the motivation to care, Elizabeth beamed and threw her arms around him. A chuckle sounded from him before he returned the gesture wholeheartedly, fixing his arms around her waist once more. When she pulled back she couldn't resist pressing her lips upon his, an action that was quickly reciprocated, before resting her forehead against his._

 _"_ _Where have you been_ _ **all**_ _day?" Her disappointment at having been forced to wait so long was evident in her voice._

 _"_ _I had a few things to take care of." Excitement shone within his eyes, mirroring the emotion laced within his voice._

 _"_ _Like what?" As she posed the question she was almost bouncing up and down, her excitement all encapsulating._

 _Moving a hand from her waist to her cheek, pushing a strand of stray hair from her face, he shook his head subtly. "It's a surprise." His blue eyes flickered across her features, examining her excitable reaction. "Have you been inside yet?" As he asked, he gestured to her front door._

 _Raising her eyebrows in curiosity, she responded. "No... I've been out with Steve…"_

 _"_ _Perfect," he grinned. Grabbing her hand he pulled her to the door. "Okay, close your eyes."_

 _Dubiously, she followed his instructions. Upon hearing her door creak open, Elizabeth let out a chuckle. "This is ridiculous."_

 _"_ _Yes it is." He replied, his smile obvious within his words._

 _Suddenly she felt herself being lifted from the ground. Yelping slightly, she quickly grabbed a hold of what she guessed to be his shirt. As he carried her calmly through the house and up the stairs, Elizabeth struggled to keep her eyes closed – curiosity and excitement mixing within her._ _As the calming sensation of outside air softly caressing her skin greeted her, she smiled as she figured out his plan. "I love you." She whispered the words, knowing he would hear them considering their close proximity._

 _A chuckle sounded from him as he set her back on her feet. "You too Betty."_

 _Huffing, she smiled as she let him get away with it. "Can I open my eyes now?"_

 _"_ _Go ahead."_

 _Eyes flickering open, Elizabeth's grin only widened. It was understated, she couldn't quite see why it had taken him the whole day, but she loved it nonetheless. He had moved one of her larger lounge chairs onto the balcony, alongside one of her dusty old blankets and she could just see a bottle of wine peeking out from beside the chair._

 _"_ _Well?" The question was filled with something akin to nervousness, something that was vastly unusual to hear from him._

 _Deciding against a verbal response, Elizabeth whirled around with an enticing smile and pulled him in for a chaste kiss._

 _Her smile was contagious it seemed. "I figured we could go the fair and watch the fireworks with a group of strangers or…" His strange nervousness returned as his eyes glazed over their surroundings as he shrugged almost shyly._

 _Running a hand soothingly through his surprisingly messed hair, she replied. "It's perfect."_

 _"_ _Yeah?" His eyebrows rose in an almost cocky fashion then, she had clearly succeeded in reassuring him. "Well in that case, there is something else." It was her turn to raise her eyebrows as he stepped away from her slightly. "I was going to wait till after but… screw it."_

 _The giggle she gave was cut unceremoniously short when he pulled a little black box from his coat pocket and got down onto one knee. Elizabeth had stopped breathing entirely, fairly certain that she was dreaming at this point, however a stupid, wide grin had overtaken her features._

 _Seeing this, he couldn't quite hide his own smile. "Elizabeth Jane Boscoe. Betty," she was only just realizing that this was actually happening, "I love you. I have since we were six years old and… I know I always will. Elizabeth, will you marry me?"_

 _For a moment, she forgot to say yes – still recovering from her shock._

 _"_ _Lizzy?"_

 _"_ _Yes! Yes, yes definitely_ _ **definitely**_ _yes!" Visibly relaxing, he pulled the ring from the box before grasping hold of her left hand. As he slipped the ring upon her finger, standing up gracefully as he did so, it became evident that it was just a little too big – not so big that it would fall from her finger but just large enough that it could easily be twirled around her finger._

 _Once it was entirely secured upon her finger Elizabeth couldn't hold herself back. With arms carelessly flung around his neck she pulled herself flush against his figure and almost feverishly pressed her lips against his._

 _Returning the gesture with the same fervor, Bucky wrapped his own arms almost crushingly around her waist before his hands traversed her back – as though by their own distant direction. They pulled away after an unknown expanse of time and he only had the time to mutter "we're gonna miss the fireworks," before her lips were on him once more._

* * *

Almost violently pushing the necklace back into her shirt, incensed by the memory it had brought forth, Elizabeth pushed away from the window – suddenly extremely agitated. Her hands clenched and unclenched almost endlessly as she tried to pry herself away from the vile grips of this emotion. Feeling a dark and sadly familiar power rising within her, almost bubbling to the surface, Elizabeth literally screeched at herself to calm down. The sudden blast of the guttural scream seemed to drown out the slew of negativity within her own head, and eventually Elizabeth felt the power fall away once more.

Despite having calmed down somewhat, Elizabeth still felt the slightest twinge of agitation. There was little chance of getting back to sleep for her now and thus, she opted to mindlessly flick through television channels.

By the time the sound of footsteps met her ears, ones she assumed belonged to Steve, her mind had all but switched off; mindlessly watching the teleshopping channel often had this effect. This was perhaps the reason for her relative lack of reaction when she looked up and found a banged up Nick Fury standing in her living room.

He seemed to notice the moment that she was about to open her mouth and speak as he quickly held a quieting finger to his lips. Tapping on his phone he communicated voicelessly, 'watch what you say.'

Instantly, she understood his meaning – considering that this was the apartment of both Captain America and a dangerous ex-asset of Hydra, the apartment was likely bugged. As her eyes flickered about the room, her mind absently wondering as to the location of the bugs, he began to speak. "Sorry for the intrusion. My wife kicked me out." Elizabeth could barely hold back a snort at that – highly doubting that he even had a wife. Pretending not to notice her reaction, he began tapping on his phone once more.

"What did you do?" She didn't need to fake curiosity for the words, she was excited to hear the likely ridiculous excuse he would make up.

"Work too much apparently." As he spoke the words he showed her the screen of his phone; 'Shield compromised.'

Swallowing a sudden lump in her throat, Elizabeth faked an air of joviality. "Well she has a point." She wasn't even smiling, despite the cheered tone of her voice, in fact she wasn't looking at him at all – she was busy scrawling out a note on the closest scrap of paper. 'Hydra?' Her biggest fear, written in scribbled ink upon fragile paper.

"Maybe." The tone of his voice suggested that he was answering her spoken question, but she knew better.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, Elizabeth didn't bother replying. If Hydra had compromised Shield then they knew where she was, where she lived and they could come for her – they _would_ come for her. They would bend her and break her just so they could build her back up into something twisted and cruel and scared. She couldn't go back to that, she couldn't go back to twisting minds to Hydra's whim or being experimented on – poked and prodded just to sate some cruel scientist's curiosity.

It wasn't long before Steve came home, smirking like an idiot – having clearly just had a conversation with their neighbor. Unfortunately his good mood was irreversibly tarnished when he saw their unexpected visitor. Fury went through the same fake wife story with Steve, while occasionally showing him text written upon his phone. As the conversation progressed Steve's features became far easier to read – concern over the ramifications of Shield's compromised position and a sense of uncertainty concerning Fury's words. Although his face did become bemused and almost rueful when Fury described the two of them as friends – something that Elizabeth found highly amusing.

"Is that what we are?"

Possibly a little offended, Fury replied. "That's up to you."

The smallest stretch of silence was followed with the slicing sound of silenced bullets and an unmistakable yell of pain from Fury. Elizabeth dropped to the floor, instinct driving her, as dust from the ruined wall covered the air like smoke – if only momentarily.

When the dust cleared and the shooting stopped, Steve quickly sprang into action. Pulling Fury away from the window he rapidly gestured for Elizabeth to move away as well, an order she hastily complied with.

"Don't trust anyone." Even Fury's words were lacking his usual strength as a shaking hand held something out for Steve.

As the door was brutally forced open both Elizabeth and Steve looked fearfully towards the source, fearing the shooter had come for them too. "Captain Rogers?" The sound of their nurse of a neighbor calling through the apartment was perhaps the very last thing Elizabeth expected to hear.

Although, seeing her carrying a gun and quickly being informed that she was an undercover Shield agent was a close second.

"Kate." Steve sounded a depressing mixture of exhausted, confused and disappointed.

"I'm assigned to protect you." Kate, if that even was her name, refused to make eye contact with either of them. An almost guilty action in Elizabeth's eyes.

"On whose order?"

"His." Kate quickly drop to her knees beside Fury, a shaking hand going to his neck, looking for a pulse. She didn't indicate whether she found one or not. A radio seemed to appear in Kate's hand from nowhere and Elizabeth blamed her still dazed mind for not paying enough attention.

"Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMTs." Kate was certainly reacting better than Elizabeth to this entire, unexpected situation.

 _"_ _Do we have a twenty on the shooter?"_ Asked the crackling voice of the radio.

"Tell him I'm in pursuit." Now that caught Elizabeth's attention.

Just before he could break into run she gripped his arm in fear. "Steve?!" It was ridiculous to fear so much for the super soldier that he was, but she had a terrible gnawing feeling in her stomach that things were about to go downhill, really fast.

"Stay here!"

He pulled away from her easily, as though her strength was nothing. "Steve!" Her yelp was entirely ignored by him as he ran and jumped through their window, sending sharp shards of glass scattering across the wooden floor. While she knew that she could stop him in the blink of an eye, she didn't consider it – someone needed to catch this guy, she just didn't like the idea that it was her best friend.

Deciding to be useful, instead of staring through a now broken window, Elizabeth turned to face her fake neighbor. "What can I do?" Her voice was strong once more.

Kate seemed at a loss for words, as she stared down at the frighteningly still figure before her. "I…I…"

"Let me see." Kate didn't move and so Elizabeth shoved her out of the way and took her place beside Fury.

Shadows danced across his skin, finding the damage and examining the extent of it; three slugs, expertly placed. Encouraged the skin to fuse back together, just to stop the blood flow, would be useless considering the bullets were still embedded in his flesh. She couldn't even remove the bullets, uncertain as to where exactly they sat and how removing them would affect him. Checking his pulse she noted that it was slowing down exponentially and she would have t act fast to have a chance at saving him - but she couldn't think of what to do.

"Shit!" The panicked curse word instantly threw her from her concentration and her head instantly snapped up to the newest figure in the room.

An ominous black mask covered his mouth and nose while black paint obscured blue eyes and messed brown hair fell carelessly into his face. Knives, guns and ammunition were scattered over his figure while an intimidating silver metal arm looked powerful enough to crush a skull with minimal effort.

Trying not to panic, and to not think about getting her skull mercilessly crushed, she quickly summoned Kate's forgotten gun to her hand and pointed it at him shakily. "Kate, get out of here." She doubted the woman would comply but she guessed it would be worth a try.

As she spoke the intruder's eyes narrowed on her slightly, eyebrows crunching together as though he were confused before he blinked and the expression was gone. At his first step forward she took her first shot – something which he easily deflected using his spectacular prosthetic. They continued this way until she had run out of bullets. Continuing to fire after the first shot had likely been a mistake, but panic was clouding her judgement.

Being violently pulled up from her knelt position was an unpleasant experience and she retaliated with fervor. Using shadows to knock him away from her she sent a powerful kick flying to his chest – aiming to fracture a rib, but, even with the added speed and force she applied with her smoke, he caught her ankle.

He was much faster than he should be.

Mechanically, as though he were actually more machine than man he tugged her leg. Falling closer to him was the last thing she wished to do but she seemed to have little choice; the pull on her leg had compromised her gravity. As soon as her body came in range he pulled her closer, with more strength than he should possess, and she instantly felt a sharp pain at her neck. For a minuscule panicked moment she thought that she was being stabbed but her mind quickly reassured that the pain was too stinging to be a knife – knives gave a more burning sensation.

Unfortunately, her relief was short-lived when she realized what was actually happening. She was being injected with something, likely a sedative. Lifting both her legs to her stomach and then violently swinging her entire body down, she attempted to flip him over or at least cause his balance to be compromised. Her effort turned out to be in vain; he momentarily seemed to lose balance but he used her own momentum against her by allowing her to crash into the flooring below.

Her face was filled with a throbbing pain and she could guess that the warmth flooding over her cheeks was from a flow of blood. Despite her rapidly escalating fear, Elizabeth's now heavy limbs and her disorientated mind were making it impossible for her to stand. Gunfire reached her ears distantly, as though she were listening to something happening miles away – briefly her mind considered that Kate had reloaded the gun and was now attempting the same thing she had.

The last thing Elizabeth felt before her world went entirely black was the familiar shadows pushing her mind into a soothing state of unconscious.

* * *

An awful, repetitive beeping filled her ears first. The sound was so terribly aggravating that Elizabeth felt the need to quieten it immediately, not even bothering to consider where she was or how she had gotten there.

As she tried to move she realized that her limbs felt immeasurably heavy, as though they were tied down – thankfully she couldn't feel any physical material holding her still. "Elizabeth?" A voice she could recognize, but not yet place, sounded quietly somewhere above her.

"Ughh…" She groaned, feeling eternally aggrieved with the world. "Turn that off." Her whining words were comparable to that of a child, but she didn't care.

"Elizabeth open your eyes." His words were said with such an earnest care that Elizabeth complied.

Painful brightness and the purest white color she had ever known was the first thing she saw. While her sensitive eyes adjusted she could discern a few whirring machines, one of which was making the beeping noise, and her best friend; Steve.

"What…" She raised a heavy hand to her forehead as though she could dull the aching with just a touch. "What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" A sensible question, Elizabeth thought, as she began to piece together her foggy memory.

"After… after you _heroically_ jumped through a window, the shooter just sort of _appeared_ in our apartment." The memories were hazy but she was somehow managing to piece together the details. "I got hold of Kate's gun and … well, I guess that was kinda useless." She couldn't remember the exact problem with the gun, but she knew it hadn't aided her in anyway.

There was a brief pause then as she thought over her next words. "I tried to fight him but… jeez he was so fast. And _strong_ – stronger than he should be." Her words had an air of curiosity to them, and Steve's expression showed that he shared her uncertainties.

"How much were you putting into it?" Steve was clearly trying to sort through all the information, to piece everything together somehow and make some sort of sense out of it.

"What, power?" When he nodded Elizabeth considered the question. "I guess," she began, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I didn't give it everything – I didn't think he'd be that strong." Elizabeth had a penchant for holding herself back, she could only use so much power before it burnt her out entirely and she was always afraid she would lose consciousness at the most inopportune moment.

Without her even having to ask, Steve began to explain the rest. "I realized he'd doubled back relatively quickly but…" he huffed, perhaps feeling guilty he hadn't noticed sooner. "You were already out of it when I got there."

"He drugged me…" she supplied the information, hoping to fill in any possible blanks for him.

"Yeah," he clearly already knew, "I had to fight him off of Sharon." Elizabeth assumed that that was their neighbor's real name. "Honestly, I wasn't sure I was going to beat him Lizzy." He seemed a little bummed and Elizabeth wasn't surprised – it wasn't often he felt outmatched.

"But you did Steve." Her reassuring words seemed to fall short as he shook his head and looked away.

"I don't think that's what happened Lizzy."

Eyebrows coming together in a strange mix of confusion and concern, Lizzy asked; "what do you mean?" She kept her voice smooth and soft, attempting to convey care.

"I… he gave up." Steve seemed so unsure Elizabeth wished she had the strength to get out of the creaky hospital bed to give him a hug. "I swear he was about to go for me again - to get at you – and I guess… he just gave up." He held his hands up, as though in defeat – completely lost in the maze of information their unexpected night had provided.

Elizabeth suddenly, perhaps stupidly, decided to come clean to Steve. "He was trying to take me to Hydra."

Steve's face was practically the definition of shock. "He _what_?" She didn't grace him with a reply, he had certainly heard her words. "What… why would you think that?"

Suddenly feeling extremely aggravated, likely due to a strange pang of guilt that she had not told him earlier, she asked him an almost angered question. "Have you ever considered that I should be dead Steve?! Have you honestly not thought about the fact that I'm still as young as when you last saw me?!"

"Hydra kept you alive?" The timidity in his voice was heart-breaking and she immediately retracted her anger.

"I don't know what they did but… I haven't aged a day since they took me."

"When did they take you?" His question was so hushed it was almost as if he was afraid of scaring her newfound openness away.

"About four years after you-"cutting herself off, she rephrased herself. "About four years after your last letter. I don't know how but, they found out what I could do… they're the reason why I'm so much more powerful now." Awkwardly she avoided his imploring gaze.

"How long?"

"Thirty years."

Silence greeted her then, it seemed Steve was unsure as to how he should reply. Elizabeth decided not to linger on the subject. "How's Fury doing?"

"He's gone."

Elizabeth blinked once, twice, three times – in shock. Fury was… he couldn't be dead. It just didn't make any sense. "He's dead?" She half expected Steve to tell her that of course he wasn't dead, he had just left the country or something more understandable.

"I'm sorry."

In his own way, he had confirmed that Fury was gone. Strangely, Elizabeth couldn't accept it – it just didn't seem possible. She pondered whether her inability to accept the news was simply because she felt too well versed in losing those close to her and now she wanted to pretend it wasn't true.

"What are you gonna do now Steve?" It was an obvious change of subject, but neither seemed to mind.

"They want me back at Shield." He seemed equally as relieved at the subject change. "For questioning."

Instantly feeling immensely afraid for her best friend, she gripped his hand almost violently. "Remember what Fury told you Steve." His eyes flew to her as she spoke. "Don't trust anyone."

Standing, he squeezed her hand and nodded. "That goes for you too Lizzy." He glanced to the door quickly, seeming to want to keep their conversation private. "They said they'll probably discharge you later today but Lizzy, if anything happens – anything weird or suspicious – get outta here."

Elizabeth was slightly taken aback, she had never known Steve to be so entirely suspicious but she agreed with the sentiment. "Okay Steve."

"I mean it Lizzy." The grip on her hand increased dramatically. "I'm not losing anyone else." Those words struck her oddly, she had never considered Steve's losses before, too wrapped up in her own. That thought blossomed quickly into a promise, a promise that she would begin to consider Steve's feelings more instead of battling through her own. They needed each-other.

"I promise Steve." The strength in her tone seemed to convince him.


	4. Chapter 4

_'_ _Get out, now.'_ The message had been unexpected, she had been lying bored in the hospital bed, awaiting the news that she could leave – when the phone had buzzed loudly beside her. Lazily, she had considered ignoring it entirely, but Steve's last words to her had rung through her head like a bell. She had sprung into action almost instantaneously, practically jumping from the bed and hastily throwing on her previously discarded clothes; a pair of ripped jeans, a black top and jacket. Now fully clothed, clutching her phone like a weapon in her right hand, Elizabeth peeked through the small window upon the door.

She could make out two men, stationed either side of the door – clearly intent on keeping her in the room. Elizabeth had the impression that nobody would be coming to tell her that she could leave, no matter how long she waited. She recognized them from the Strike team and whilst before that may have resulted in her at least trusting them somewhat, she quickly thought better; Hydra could be anywhere.

Stepping back from the door, her mind was racing - panic flaring at the edges of her every thought. Even if she could get past the two guards at the door with ease, she had no way of knowing how many other agents were stalking through the halls just outside her room. Eyes flickering over to the window, she almost groaned in annoyance – this was going to be far too difficult.

Shoving her phone carelessly into the pocket of her jeans, Elizabeth moved over to the large window beside the bed. Veins of cracks were snaking across the delicate pane of glass and dust had settled upon the windowsill; she could tell the window had rarely been opened. Slowly, so as to reduce the sound, she carefully pulled at the fragile window. As it opened slightly, before stopping short unexpectedly, it let out a loud screeching whine – like iron nails scratching on a chalkboard.

Instantly looking towards the door she found it being opened. Before the pair could fully infiltrate the room she used power to move the bed sharply across the room, effectively shutting the door and keeping it jammed that way. Confused as to why the window wouldn't open, she tugged it once more and found a small safety wire keeping the window from opening fully. Inwardly cursing the health and safety regulations of the hospital, she focused on the wire, concentrating on separating the particles midway through the wire; slicing it in half as though she had a knife.

She felt rather than saw the window give under the pressure of her pull. Wasting no time she pulled it entirely open and peered down to the ground; attempting to assess how high up she was. Luckily, she wasn't too far up but her window was overlooking a courtyard of sorts indicating that she would still have to successfully navigate through the hospital to escape.

As she was about to throw caution to the wind and fling herself from the window, a drop of fresh crimson blood upon the white windowsill caught her attention. For a moment she was entirely perplexed, she couldn't recall cutting herself at any point, but realization soon struck. Lifting a hand to her nose, Elizabeth felt a distinctly warm liquid upon her upper lip. Pulling her hand back she looked down at it with uncertain eyes, she didn't understand why she was losing energy so soon. She had done nothing but push a bed a few feet and slice through a thin wire, she shouldn't be burnt out already.

The yelling and clanging from outside effectively snapped Elizabeth straight back to the situation. Pushing her new-found uneasiness to one side, determined to focus, she clambered up onto the windowsill and edged her figure forward. Normally she wouldn't think twice about a fall from this height, confident enough in her own abilities to save herself, but the fact that her nose was already bleeding made her uncertain as to how much power she even had left. Deciding caution was her best and only option, Elizabeth maneuvered herself so that she was hanging precariously from the lip of the window frame. Praying that the meager amount of distance she had managed to reduce would prove somewhat useful, she let go.

As she fell her hair flew up around her, almost entirely encompassing her vision, Elizabeth nervously attempted to slow her fall, to soften her landing. Her feet touched the ground; that much she was aware of, but the rest of her senses were strangely numb. Her thoughts had turned to a splay of white noise while her vision had become rather hazy and unclear. For a terrible moment Elizabeth feared she would pass out right there, black spots were already beginning to overtake her vision, but the image of a sinister man with a sparkling metal arm dragging her back to Hydra caused her to push through.

Staying conscious, through nothing but sheer force of will, Elizabeth automatically brought her hand up to wipe away the blood she knew to be below her nose. Glancing around, her eyes instantly zeroed in on the exit sign directing her to the nearest door. Knowing there was nowhere else she could go, needing to get out of here and now, she began towards the door. She began with a stumble as her feet felt too heavy to even lift from the ground, but eventually she managed to straighten out her steps just as she reached the door.

It was lucky, that she regained at least some of her coordination before being confronted with an angry agent, pushing her hastily down an abandoned hallway. Knowing power was out of the question, unless she wanted to pass out in this man's arms, she grabbed the wrist of the hand that had attempted to pull out a gun.

She twisted his wrist harshly and simultaneously sent a solid kick to his knee, crippling two limbs at once. When his knee buckled and he fell to the ground she snatched the dropped firearm from the ground. Flipping off the safety, finding it ridiculous he hadn't done that already, she sent a softer kick to his head – not wishing to knock him unconscious just yet.

Crouching down, roughly grabbing his collar, she pulled him to face her with the barrel of the gun coming to rest upon his temple. "Who do you work for?" Her question was calm, but there was a dangerous undertone within the words.

When his reply was a wide eyed and frantic shake of the head, she shook him almost violently. "Is it Hydra?!" Her demand was met with silence and she internally damned him. The crackling of his radio sounded then, an almost indistinguishable voice on the other side, and reminded her that she shouldn't hang around. Huffing, she stood and tucked the gun into the back of her pants. Quickly lifting her top over the weapon, she sent another stronger kick to his head. His nose cracked and his head snapped back onto the lino flooring as his body went entirely limp.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the pain building in her brain, she pinched the bridge of her nose before rushing off down the hall.

Her route out of the hospital was perhaps the most ridiculous, over-the-top route anyone had ever taken through the halls, but caution was her friend if she wanted to exit the building alive. Having taken a variety of shortcuts that turned out to add miles onto her journey and ducked in dark corners to avoid Strike agents, Elizabeth felt as though she had been wandering the halls for hours. In reality it had been a mere forty minutes.

When she finally reached the last door, leading to the much sought after exit, she felt relief coursing through her veins. Hesitantly pushing through the heavy double doors, feeling extremely vulnerable without her power, she was relieved to find no-one else in the room but a stressed receptionist and an elderly couple having an argument over who had the car keys. Faking calm, Elizabeth strolled to the large double doors on the other-side of the room, stifling a laugh at the elderly couple's spat. Once outside, temporarily blinded by the bright sunlight, she wasn't sure where to go or what to do next and so, she walked aimlessly away.

* * *

He hadn't been able to go straight there, a fact that felt as though it were gnawing away at his insides. Anything could have happened by now, she could already be gone; without a trace, back to Hydra. That would be worse, he mused, if there was nothing left there of her – as though she had never even existed in the first place.

It wasn't often that he would admit to being afraid, but now he was unashamedly so.

Beneath the hood he wore, his eyes were flickering wildly over his surroundings as though he would suddenly be able to pick her out of the crowd. As his eyes were desperately sweeping to the right yet again, a group of men dressed in black bundled past him. When he recovered from the surprise he quickly realized that he recognized those men, Strike team members.

They didn't pay him a second glance, too consumed with something else it seemed, as they hurried away with agitation apparent in their every feature. As they disappeared into a large black van and sped away Steve felt intense relief, the panic upon their features clearly indicated that Elizabeth had gotten away, she had received his message – she was safe.

When he saw a familiar mane of golden hair peek out from an alleyway, he could have jumped for joy. Checking quickly for prying eyes he made his way over to her – attempting subtly. Cautious eyes greeted him first before recognition sparkled within her blue eyes and she was beamed up at him. Elizabeth had always had a smile that could light up the entire world, he thought, and after everything that had happened to them in the last forty-eight hours it was a welcome sight.

With a smile of his own, he placed an arm around her shoulders; pulling her in for a casual embrace – still wary of any watchers. Returning the gesture as casually as he, she looked up with concern upon her features. "Are you okay, Steve?" Merely nodding he began to lead her back to the hospital. As he knew she would, she followed him without question. "What's going on?"

"It's like Nick said; Shield's compromised." As they re-entered the hospital Steve nodded amiably to the receptionist. "Do you remember what Nick gave me?"

"Yeah…"

"We're going to get it."

* * *

Steve weaved expertly through the halls of the hospital but Elizabeth was hardly surprised; she knew he had an unshakable memory. Soon enough they reached a rather ordinary looking vending machine and although she expected him to do something, he merely stood, with an acute expression of confusion upon his features.

"You hungry or something Steve?" He didn't reply.

A popping noise behind them caught their attention and the surprising sight of Natasha seemed to instantly incense Steve. Within the blink of an eye Steve had roughly grabbed a hold of her arm and pushed her into an adjoining room. Elizabeth almost winced as Natasha's back impacted heavily against the wall behind them.

Instantly Steve began his interrogation. "Where is it?"

"Safe."

"Do better."

"Where did you get it?" As usual Natasha deflected any questioning from herself and back onto him.

"Why would I tell you?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes, this was remarkably similar to watching two four year olds having an argument.

"Fury gave it to you. Why?" An expression of hurt, so brief Elizabeth could barely notice it, flashed across Natasha's features as she spoke. Perhaps she had previously believed that she held Nick's trust.

"What's on it?" Steve's pursuit of answers was showing no signs of relenting.

"I don't know." Elizabeth doubted that was entirely true.

"Stop lying." Frustration was clearly mounting within Steve, she could practically see tension building in his broad shoulders.

Glancing quickly to the door, worried that Steve's sudden show of masculinity would attract attention, she heard Natasha reply with an indignant tone. "I only act like I know everything, Rogers."

"I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?" Although hushed, his words were clearly gaining anger at the level of information that had been kept from him.

Floundering just slightly, for perhaps the first time in her life, Natasha came up with an answer. "Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you."

The words made sense to Elizabeth but, as she watched Steve grab at her arms yet again, she noted that he did not share the sentiment. "I'm not gonna ask you again."

It was clear as day in her eyes; she knew she had to give him something real – something to get his attention. "I know who killed Fury." And she certainly succeeded. Steve seemed stunned into silence. "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists." _Mysterious._ "The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier."

 _Winter Soldier._ The name struck oddly with Elizabeth, she _remembered_ it _._

* * *

 _1969_

 _"_ _Asset 207 appears to be complying with instruction." The man with the wire frame glasses and frail hands was speaking into a receiver – relaying messages to the men who watched through the shining mirror. She couldn't figure out why they hid behind the mirror at all, their presence was obvious. "It would appear that she is searching for the information now."_

 _While she was 'rooting for information' inside another's mind, she was not exactly 'complying with instruction'. Instead of searching through the mind and thoughts of the young and terrified blonde man before her, she was casually looking through the mind of the man speaking into the receiver._

 _There was nothing particularly surprising within his head; there was the usual dither of idiotic beliefs that most Hydra followers held and a plethora of other random information; his age, his home, his son... the list was practically endless. Elizabeth looked through it all with nothing but a steadfast apathy. Adding nothing but his knowledge of the compound's layout to her own personal catalog of knowledge, barely believing it would aid her in anyway, Elizabeth kept trawling through the names and faces his memory held._

 ** _Winter Soldier._** _The name was only passing in his mind but something about it drew Elizabeth's attention – possibly because it was something entirely new. Her sudden spark of emotion of any kind within his mind perhaps caused her to chase after the information too obviously as, when she delved into the name and the information behind it more deeply, she was instantly thrown from his mind._

 _A strangled yelp escaped her as a white hot pain shot through her head – they had taken to blasting her mind with electric impulses when they sought to control her. It was aggravatingly effective. Barely able to hear or even to see over the searing pain slicing through her skull, Elizabeth just managed to notice the two men quickly leaving the room before the lights were turned out entirely._

 _In the darkness, the pain stopped, but it was replaced with a cold sweat and fear. The heavy bindings upon her limbs somehow became uncomfortable in the dark and the chair beneath her felt harder than it had before. A quick scout of the walls with her shadowed ability led to another jolt of intense pain within her mind, she didn't know how they protected the walls from her power but somehow they had. Elizabeth was trapped, her body was tied down and her power was penned into this small room._

 _Closing her eyes against the darkness surrounding her she felt her shadows surround her of their own accord, as though protecting her without having to be willed._

* * *

"Going after him's a dead end. I know, I've tried. Like you said he's a ghost story." As if to prove herself Natasha held up the hard-drive.

Steve said nothing, still not believing her words. "Steve, she's telling the truth." Not turning his back entirely on Natasha, proving his mistrust, he glanced at her. "Back at Hydra, I heard the name in some guy's head." Eyebrows scrunching together as he processed the information, likely finding it odd that she was speaking so openly about her time there, Steve nodded. "He's real Steve… and he's Hydra."

Turning back to Natasha, looking significantly more believing than before, he took the hard-drive from her outstretched palm. "Well, let's find out what the ghost wants."

Steve left the room dramatically, with hurried footsteps and clear agitation in his gait. "Thanks."

Looking over to Natasha, Elizabeth nodded briefly before following after her oldest friend.

On their walk from the hospital, Steve couldn't resist pelting her with questions. "Did you meet him?"

Not looking towards his eyes, still uncomfortable discussing her time at Hydra with anyone, she gave him a quiet answer. "The soldier? No, I never met him."

A small hum of uncertainty sounded from him then and Elizabeth peered up at him curiously. Noticing her expression, he sighed - his shoulders heaving slightly. "What else do you know?"

Shaking her head at him, she threw him an apologetic look. "Just the name... and the assumption that he's Hydra." Shrugging her shoulders, Elizabeth continued. "I guess they just didn't want me knowing too much."


	5. Chapter 5

Steve smiled to himself slightly, feeling affection bubble through his chest, as he briefly looked back to find Elizabeth curled up on the backseats, seemingly dead to the world as she slept. After narrowly escaping Rumlow at the mall, Steve had practically had to carry Elizabeth to a random car and almost the instant that Steve had managed to get the doors open Elizabeth had collapsed to slumber on the backseats – mumbling something about recovering her energy before she had dozed off entirely.

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" His smile fell into a smirk, he had been expecting a question like this.

"Nazi Germany." Glancing to her casual, lounging, position he added. "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash." Briefly he wondered whether this was the sort of thing Elizabeth had meant when she told him that he could be a little too concerned with following the rules. He remembered one occasion before the war when he had gone with Bucky to visit the diner that Elizabeth had worked in. After they had eaten Elizabeth had quietly told them that they wouldn't have to pay if they didn't make a fuss. Bucky had been perfectly fine with the idea, smiling brightly at Elizabeth as she moved to wait on another table, but it hadn't quite sat right with Steve. He hadn't been able to leave the diner without leaving a pile of notes on the table, much to the amusement of both Bucky and Elizabeth.

Complying, Natasha shot him a small smirk and spoke once more. "All right, I have a question for you, which you do not have to answer." He could have grimaced, considering her amused tone this was likely going to be something highly embarrassing. "I feel like, if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"

"What?"

"Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

The little grin she held and the amusement lacing her words made him feel even worse. "That bad, huh?"

"I didn't say that."

A little miffed, and more than a little embarrassed he shot back: "Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying."

"No, I didn't." She told him vehemently. "I just wondered how much practice you had."

"You don't need practice."

"Everybody needs practice."

Deciding to put the entire question to bed, he finally answered it honestly. "It was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm 95, I'm not dead."

Unfortunately, it seemed that Natasha was not about to give up with this line of conversation. "Nobody special though?"

Scoffing, thinking of how ridiculous the entire prospect of a relationship was at this point, he answered with a sad sense of being resigned to the truth. "Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience."

"Well, I don't know about that Rogers." She had a playful tone to her voice and as he glanced towards her he noticed her pointedly glance to Elizabeth in the backseat.

"Lizzy?!" He asked loudly, a little stunned at the insinuation – finding it more than a little ridiculous. "No, definitely not." His vehement answer seemed to confuse Natasha somewhat.

"Well why not? You're both in your nineties." Her chuckle was partnered with a teasing smile. At his silence she prodded him again. "Oh come on, don't tell me you've never even thought about it."

"No, never." She made a noise of protest then but he cut her off quickly. "It just wouldn't be right… I've never thought about her like that."

"Why not?" Natasha sounded as though it were the most ridiculous thing that she had ever heard.

"She's like a sister to me Nat, I've known her since I was six…." Looking out over the near empty road, he avoided her gaze with discomfort. "Besides, she was Bucky's girl, I couldn't do that to him."

"Oh…" She sounded a little scolded, as though she had suddenly remembered Steve's real past, he hadn't meant to make her feel that way. In truth he had never really put much thought into why he had never even considered romance with Elizabeth, he had just seemed to subconsciously know that it wouldn't feel right.

"Well, you just make something up."

Glad the conversation had shifted, even though the topic was still uncomfortable, he replied. "What, like you?"

"I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstance, it's not all things to all people all the time. Neither am I." She finished with a little smile but he felt some sort of sadness for her.

"That's a tough way to live."

"It's a good way not to die though." He noted that she had never actually disagreed with him.

"You know it's kinda hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is."

"Yeah." She agreed blankly. "Who do you want me to be?"

"How about a friend?" God knew he could use a few more of those.

A chuckle sounded from her first. "Well there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."

They were silent for the next few moments, both contemplating the other's words, but Steve didn't mind the stretched silence; it was a welcome respite from the awkward conversation of before. The road was quiet and he found the drive peaceful, his mind seemed to drift away while his body almost automatically undertook the task of driving.

Their arrival at the location felt instantaneous to his zoned out mind.

Once parked, he jumped quickly from the truck and carefully opened the back door, revealing Elizabeth's still slumbering form. For a moment he considered leaving her there, allowing her to sleep seeing as she was so clearly in need of it, but the idea of the Winter Soldier lurking somewhere in the shadows changed his mind almost instantly. Leaning forward he shook her slightly. "Lizzy?" She stirred, groaning and burying her head further into her arms. "C'mon wake up Lizzy." Finally her eyes flickered open and she glanced up at him groggily.

"Stevie? Are we there?" Ignoring the aggravating name she used, deciding she was merely tired and barely awake yet, he nodded and moved out of the way as she clambered from the car. "This place looks cheery." Her words were clearly sarcastic and Natasha chuckled from the other side of the car.

"The file came from these coordinates." Natasha seemed a little uncertain as to the accuracy of the data and he wasn't surprised - this place was almost as old as he was.

* * *

"This building is in the wrong place."

Steve, ever the problem solver, had seemingly found what they had been unsuccessfully searching for for almost two hours. Elizabeth watched as Steve quickly employed his trusty shield to break the rusted lock with ease. He led them down into what seemed to be a secret bunker – not that Elizabeth could see much in the darkness. Natasha felt against the wall with her fingertips and finally found a switch to flip. Overhead lights flickered back to life above them revealing an array of skewed desks, chairs and cabinets littering a surprisingly cavernous room. "This is Shield." Natasha was stating the obvious, but Elizabeth didn't mind.

"Maybe where it started."

"Something like that." Elizabeth added, not really seeing the importance in the fine details of this place.

As they wandered through the abandoned room, Elizabeth couldn't help but take notice of how eerie the entire place was; as though it had been forgotten entirely, with cobwebs draped over chairs and thick layers of dust settled upon desks. Despite the almost sad and forgotten atmosphere, Elizabeth found the silence and lack of life disturbingly calming.

The trio entered a second room and the first thing Elizabeth's eyes were drawn to was a set of familiar photographs hanging upon the wall. "And there's Stark's father." As Elizabeth looked up to the photo of Howard Stark she couldn't help but remember the man himself.

Howard Stark had been a man of science and, after Steve had unintentionally revealed her powers to the man, he had been somewhat obsessed with discovering the possible source of them. Elizabeth hadn't minded his excitable experimentation, he had been kind despite his avid interest and near constantly obsessed with her well-being – nothing like Hydra's mad scientists. They had actually become quite fast friends, the both of them sharing a sense of uncertainty as to how they should go about their lives both during and after the war. Upon reconnecting in the 1980's she had been surprised at the change in his character, gone was the carefree genius – replaced with a stern father of yet another carefree genius.

"Who's the girl?" Steve didn't answer Natasha. Casting a glance to him, Elizabeth noted a brief flash of pain within his eyes and he walked away without uttering a word.

"Peggy Carter." Elizabeth supplied the answer, but didn't wait for a response as she followed after Steve who seemed oddly intrigued by a dusty, empty bookshelf.

"If you're already working in a secret office," Steve began before forcing the bookshelves apart, revealing a hidden elevator. "why do you need to hide the elevator?"

The trio moved forward, almost cautiously towards the elevator in question, before coming to a swift halt as they realized that they would need a combination to move forward. Natasha chose to randomly punch in a code and was swiftly met with a harsh buzzing sound.

"Really?" Asked Steve, clearly exasperated that she had even entertained the idea that she would be able to guess the combination.

"Hey, it was worth a try."

Huffing Elizabeth made her way to the panel. Concentrating, Elizabeth sent power into the electronics, feeling along the wires and cogs with shadowed fingers - manipulating the machinery until the cheerful ding of an elevator bell sounded. Pulling her power away from the panel, Elizabeth watched with satisfaction as the elevator doors slid open before them. "Impressive." She couldn't help but smile at Natasha's compliment.

The groaning of wires and metal as they traveled downwards in the elevator was disconcerting to say the least and Elizabeth was sure that she wasn't the only one who felt immensely relieved to reach the bottom and escape the confines of the elevator. The room that the doors opened to reveal was eerier than the first; a mass of what seemed to be black screens were revealed to be facing them.

As they walked forwards the elevator doors shut ominously behind them and Elizabeth was forced to grit her teeth to prevent the panic of being trapped from rising to the surface. Lights flickered on automatically as they reached the large computer ahead of them, almost as though the computer itself had sensed their arrival.

Dust covered everything, giving the screens an off grey color. "This can't be the data point. This technology is ancient." Elizabeth would have agreed instantly but something about the room screamed at her that they were in just the right place. Machines whirred to life around her and Elizabeth turned back to find that Natasha had inserted the hard-drive into a more modern looking piece of technology. "Initiate System?" The electronic voice almost sent a shiver down her spine.

Natasha quickly took charge, typing 'yes' on the keyboard. Quickly the machinery whirred once more. Jokingly, Natasha deepened her voice and asked "shall we play a game?" She then seemed to realize that she was speaking to two people who were almost 100 years old and began to explain her odd words. "It's from a movie that was really-"

"I know, I saw it."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Really? I haven't?" For a moment she was genuinely worried that she was missing out on something major.

"You don't want to." Was Steve's almost automatic answer, unfortunately his reply had made her curiosity spike even further.

Looking back to the screen, she noticed a face taking shape.

"Rogers, Steven born 1918." The confusion upon Steve's features were reflected upon her own face.

The camera then moved over Elizabeth, landing on Natasha. "Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna born 1984."

The camera then slowly moved to Elizabeth. "Boscoe, Elizabeth. Born 1919." He seemed to pause. "Asset 207."

Suddenly recognizing the voice as he spoke the one name that she wished she could forget, Elizabeth took an almost stumbling step back and grabbed a hold of Steve's arm. Looking back to her, she barely noticed his eyes skim her features or his voice quietly asking if she was okay.

* * *

 _1955_

 _"_ _Asset 207." As he spoke he adjusted his glasses with chubby fingers, child-like excitement shining in his eyes. "Again." He ordered, with a cruel fascination to his voice._

 _Knowing the painful consequences if she failed to comply, she crushed the steel bar before her with her power. It began as shadows dancing in sharp contrast against the shining brightness of silver steel and morphed into the sounds of crushing metal. The shadows gradually became more solid, as though becoming something that could be touched and molded, and began heavily impacting the steel._ _The bar was shaped and molded so easily it was as though it were made of nothing but soft butter. When the darkness that was her power ascended from the smooth metal, it was revealed to have been shaped into the perfect sphere._

 _"_ _Beautiful." Zola muttered, scribbling notes upon his papers._

 _She could feel the warmth of blood trickling from her nose and tears sprung to her eyes as the metallic taste of it invaded her mouth. Her hands were trapped against the table, just free enough to manipulate the metal but she was entirely unable to wipe the blood from her skin. Fatigue encased her mind, causing her thoughts to become hazy and scattered and her skull to throb as though she had been heavily beaten._

 _"Again." Despite her pain she knew the consequences of non-compliance would be worse. Gritting her teeth and feeling tears slide down her pale cheeks, Elizabeth set about flattening the metal once more._

* * *

"It must be some kind of recording." The sound of Natasha's voice pulled her from her memory.

"I am not a recording, Fraulein." Zola sounded positively offended by her insinuation. "I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945." Elizabeth quickly looked up to Steve, who was watching the screen with curiosity, and realized he too had encountered Zola before. Elizabeth resolved that she and Steve needed to sit down and talk about the things that had happened to them, no matter how painful the process may be.

"But I am." Zola was continuing, despite her inner monologue.

"You know this thing?" Natasha seemed almost disgusted.

Steve began walking around the large device but Elizabeth couldn't guess what he was looking for. "Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He's been dead for years."

Zola's voice quickly rang through the air to correct Steve. "First correction, I am Swiss" Elizabeth had known that, being inside Zola's head was not somewhere she had enjoyed venturing – she had only ever done it once. "Second, look around you. I have never been more alive." His electronic voice was filled with such excitement that Elizabeth almost cringed at the familiarity of it.

Finally he began to explain his circumstance. "In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, that was worth saving." Elizabeth couldn't help but disagree. "on 200,000 feet of databanks." Almost in horror, she looked around at the rows and rows of machinery. Briefly she wondered if she had enough energy to destroy them all with her mind – it would be a beautifully ironic death for a man who had been so obsessed with her ability. "You are standing in my brain."

Steve came to stand beside her once more. "How did you get here?" It seemed a reasonable question.

"Invited."

"It was Operation Paperclip after World War 2." Natasha's explanation was thankfully more in-depth than Zola's. "Shield recruited German scientists with strategic value."

That didn't sound quite right to Elizabeth, she doubted that Shield would have condoned the things that Zola and his associates had done to her and so many others. There had to be more to the story than what Natasha knew.

"That doesn't make any sense." Elizabeth noticed Natasha raised her eyebrows in question, signalling for Elizabeth to continue. "When Hydra had me, he was there. Only occasionally," she conceded, "but still there."

Natasha seemed to begin a reply, uncertainty painting her features, but she was cut off by Zola. "My dear Elizabeth, I knew you would not forget our time together." Clenching her fists Elizabeth prayed he would stop talking. Now replying to Natasha's statement, Zola spoke once more. "They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own."

"Hydra died with the Red Skull." Steve didn't sound so sure and Elizabeth was unsurprised, she was practically a walking confirmation that Hydra were still around.

Zola quickly confirmed Steve's fears. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place." A statement she had heard often, in circumstances she was not necessarily proud of.

Ever the stubborn man, Steve simply said; "prove it."

A few whirs and clicks later and Zola spoke. "Accessing archive."

Pictures started flashing upon a screen to the right of Zola's 'head'. "Hydra was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist." A picture of Steve back in the 40's flashed upon the screen then. "The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly." Fires, fighting and explosions were some of the many images that flashed upon the screen.

"After the war, Shield was founded," a picture of a smirking Howard Stark was shown then, "and I was recruited. The new Hydra grew. A beautiful parasite inside Shield." Images of Zola working among Shield flashed upon the screen and Elizabeth could barely believe her eyes. _This couldn't be true._

"For 70 years, Hydra has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war, and when history did not cooperate, history was changed." An image of who she now knew to be the Winter Soldier flashed upon the screen, implicating him in some famous assassination within history.

"That's impossible, Shield would have stopped you." Elizabeth wished Natasha's words were true, but her faith in Shield was now greatly reduced.

"Accidents will happen." A newspaper article concerning Howard Stark's death appeared then, leading Elizabeth to infer that Hydra, and probably the Winter Soldier, were somehow implicated in his death. Strangely, the first thing Elizabeth thought of was that Tony didn't even know that his parents were murdered, as far as he was aware their death had merely been a terrible accident. "Hydra created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom, to gain its security." She couldn't see that being true; _would people ever willingly give away freedom, even for the promise of peace?_

"Once the purification process is complete, Hydra's new world order will arise." These ideals sounded awfully familiar and Elizabeth suddenly felt almost nauseous at the information she was being given. "We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life." Newspapers and magazines that had not yet been released, detailing Steve's death appeared on the screen then. "A zero sum."

Before Elizabeth could even think of a reaction, Steve had lunged forward and punched the screen – leaving a large crack running through the screen. Elizabeth would have chuckled and rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of his gesture, had the situation not been so dire.

"As I was saying…" Zola's face appeared upon a second, smaller screen then, warranting Steve's previous action pointless.

"What's on this drive?" Steve seemed to have lost his patience.

"Project Insight requires insight." Zola seemed allergic to giving a straight answer. "So, I wrote an algorithm."

"What kind of algorithm? What does it do?" Natasha chipped in.

"The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it." Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat.

The elevator door behind them was being sealed by an ominous, whirring black door. Steve instinctively threw his shield towards the door, but it had no effect.

"We got a bogey." Looking to Natasha, she tried to contain her panic. "Short range ballistic, 30 seconds tops."

"Who fired it?"

Elizabeth answered at the same time as Natasha, the answer obvious. "Shield."

"I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain." Zola carried on speaking but none of them were listening, all too busy attempting to find a way to survive. Steve found them a chance first, lunging forward and pulling a large metal grate from the floor.

She and Natasha both rushed towards him as the building began to explode. The trio jumped into the small hole in the floor and Elizabeth quickly realized that, even with Steve's shield hovering protectively above them, there was little chance of any of them managing to survive. And so, Elizabeth looked up from where she had been huddled and summoned her power in the form of an unbreakable shield above them. It was tiring and near impossible to maintain but Elizabeth knew that their lives were in her hands and that the longer she could protect them for, the better their chances.

She felt blood trickling from her nose and her skin became clammy while her body tingled all over. Spots were swimming before her eyes and the heat of their surroundings was starting to get to her. As flames licked at her makeshift shield it felt almost as though she herself was being burned alive, barely holding in a guttural scream from the pain, Elizabeth felt her body begin to give way.

She realized how fine a line she was walking, experience taught her that she would either pass out from the effort and likely be out for a few days or her power would take over completely and she would entirely forget that she was meant to be saving the others; she would know nothing but destruction and chaos. With this knowledge, Elizabeth stopped pushing her limits; deciding that the first option was her only real feasible choice.

Darkness greeted her like an old ally.

* * *

 **Hi! Sorry this update is a little late but I was so busy yesterday I actually entirely forgot!**

 **Anyway, it's probably clear that I skipped out the whole mall scene and I just wanted to explain that I chose to do that because there wasn't an easy way to place Elizabeth into it and it would have likely just felt like a read through of the scene. While this chapter also has a lot of movie dialogue within it I feel like it was a good opportunity to add a little more exposition of my character in so I hope you didn't find it boring!**

 **Anyway, please please review; even just a few words would make my day! Thanks for reading! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

_1979_

 _She had lost track of how many days she had been confined to The Box. Elizabeth had developed that name herself, she wasn't sure what else to call the place and it seemed the perfect name. The enclosing walls and the bleak darkness that encased the entire space all made her think of being trapped inside a small box of some sort._

 _She had been unable to stretch her legs for days now and her knees felt as though they were beginning to lock. The ache in her back was slowly becoming unbearable as she was forced to curl inwards to fit into the confining space. The panic at her situation had finally begun to recede but she was now left with nothing but her mounting pain. She could feel her power blanketing her, surrounding her as though in an attempt to protect and it succeeded in providing some comfort; the room didn't feel so cold and lonely._

 _Elizabeth could hardly even remember why she had been thrown into the Box again. She guessed it must be something to do with her increasing struggle to control her powers - while she could still command the shadows perfectly they had also developed a penchant of acting out without her permission and the consequences of these slip ups were getting gradually worse._

 _The door opened so suddenly and unexpectedly; the first change she had encountered in days or even weeks. Unsurprisingly, her power reacted before she could even think. Through the limbs of her shadows Elizabeth could feel the men who had opened the door get pushed away from her figure rather violently. Sounds were erupting around her but her mind was still too groggy to provide her with a reasonable response. Her power, however, it seemed was determined to get her away from Hydra no matter what._

 _She felt shadows push and pull at her, helping her stand. Her feet almost tumbled over one another as she was pushed hastily forwards but somehow she remained standing and quickly followed her powers instruction; running from the Box and from the Hydra grunts behind her. The shadows had disappeared from the air around her, finally back under her conscious control now that her mind had fully woken up from the endless hours in the Box._

 _Escaping was too great of a dream it seemed. Bindings trapped her legs suddenly and she fell face first upon the cold metallic ground. Power shot from her instantaneously, this time of her command, but was cut off quickly by the familiar electrical charge shooting through her now pained mind. It seemed Hydra were too well practice in keeping her powers in check nowadays._

 _Hands on her legs dragged her backwards violently, causing her face to be scraped painfully against the ground. The cock of a gun was the last thing she heard before a scream of pain shot through her arm and the large door being slammed shut in her face was the very last thing she could remember seeing._

* * *

She awoke with a sheen of sweat glistening upon her clammy skin and an erratically racing heart. One moment she was snuggled into a mattress watching Steve leave the room and the next her mind had thrown her back into her nightmarish past. In an almost perfect oxymoron the two loudest sounds within the largely unfamiliar room were the sounds of her gasping breaths and the cheerful chirping of the birds outside. Groggily pulling herself out of bed, somewhat afraid of the possibility of falling back asleep, she hastily stretched out her limbs in an attempt to wake herself up a little. After a quick trip to the bathroom, where Elizabeth splashed cold water upon her flushed face and dragged her fingers through her unruly mane of hair, Elizabeth trotted through the house to where she hoped the others would be.

The smell of food soon succeeded in enticing her to the kitchenette area where she also found Steve, Sam and Natasha. Stopping in the doorway and leaning softly against the frame, Elizabeth listened in to what seemed to be the very end of their conversation.

"I thought you said you were a pilot." Steve had looked up from the curious file in his hands, something within it clearly intriguing him greatly. Elizabeth moved slightly further into the room, standing just behind Sam, keen to catch up on the conversation she had missed.

"I never said pilot."

"Intriguing." Elizabeth piped in, with a hushed and sarcastic tone, clearly giving Sam a fright as she spoke.

His head whipped around to her, clearly surprised by her sudden appearance. "Jeez! Can you teleport too?!" He honestly looked as though he was struggling to catch his breath after the shock of her sudden appearance.

Chuckling at his reaction, she glanced to Steve and asked; "you really want this guy on our team?"

Both Steve and Natasha gave a laugh while Sam seemed to mock aggravation. "Hey, I might not have creepy shadow powers but I can be pretty useful." The smile in his eyes softened the sharp tone of his words and Elizabeth found the phrase 'creepy shadow powers' incredibly hilarious.

"Whatever you say pal." Elizabeth shot yet another smirk at him looking back to Steve as he rerouted the conversation.

Shaking his head, Steve looked up from the file. "I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason."

"Dude, Captain America needs my help-"

Butting in once more she added with an overly bright smile. "Don't forget Black Widow and Nightmare need your help too."

Probably rolling his eyes, not that she could actually see from her angle, he corrected himself. "Okay, Captain America, Black Widow _and_ Nightmare all need my help." Looking back to her he asked, "Happy?"

"Very."

"There's no better reason to get back in."

Steve still seemed conflicted but he now looked resigned to the fact that he could use Sam's help. "Where can we get our hands on one of these?" Elizabeth still had no idea what 'one of these' actually was.

"The last one is at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall."

Steve looked to Natasha as though to question how feasible the job was. She shrugged as though he were asking her to buy some milk. "Shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

Steve hadn't been wrong, Natasha had not even encountered a single issue while getting a hold of Sam's wings. Elizabeth was mostly surprised by how quick she had completed her job – she doubted any of the guards would even notice the suit was gone. Considering how long Elizabeth had known Natasha it was strange that she still wasn't entirely aware of just how capable the woman was. She was far more talented than Elizabeth had ever given her credit for and Elizabeth was actually immensely surprised that Shield had never thought to partner them together.

"That was impressive back there." Natasha smirked at her compliment, glancing absently along the skyline.

"I would say thank you but… compared to you saving my life when we got blown up, it's pretty much nothing." Natasha was smirking but Elizabeth could see an undertone of something else hiding within her eyes.

"If you could have, you would have done the same thing." Elizabeth's certain tone seemed to surprise Natasha somewhat.

After a beat of silence, Natasha spoke once more, a strange expression upon her features. "Do you really believe that?"

Leaning against the wall Elizabeth looked Natasha dead in the eye. "Despite what you may think Nat, you're a good person." She seemed as though she were about to disagree but Elizabeth cut her off quickly. "Trust me Nat. I have been alive for a long, _long_ time. I've met people who've made my skin crawl, people who are undoubtedly _bad_ and you, Nat, are not one of them." After a pause she added; "In fact, you are one of the few truly good people I've met… what you've _done_ doesn't have to be what defines you."

A small smile appeared upon Natasha's features. "You're a very wise old woman aren't you, Lizzy?"

Laughing, Elizabeth nodded. " _Very_ wise and _very_ old."

Suddenly their shared moment was broken as none other than Jasper Sitwell was launched through the door beside them. His exaggerated grunts and groans were almost comical as he rolled upon the floor a few more times than was really necessary. "Tell me about Zola's algorithm." Steve spoke as casually as if he were discussing the weather. Both Elizabeth and Natasha moved forward with him, advancing on Sitwell together like a pack of hungry wolves.

"Never heard of it." Sitwell was adjusting his glasses as he attempted, and failed to keep his cool.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?"

"I was throwing up. I get seasick." They had now backed him all the way to the edge of the roof and yet he still wouldn't provide a straight answer.

Elizabeth knew she could end this in less than a minute, with a quick trip into his mind and she was quickly losing her patience.

"Steve-"

He cut her off almost instantly, clearly knowing what she was about to say. "No Lizzy, we talked about this."

She remembered that largely one-sided chat, where he had insisted she be more careful with using her power so as not to drain herself of energy and leave herself vulnerable. The main theme of the conversation had been 'only when absolutely necessary'.

Steve grabbed a hold of Sitwell's jacket, clearly indicating that he would be thrown from the roof if he didn't cooperate. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof?" He clearly wasn't as dense and idiotic as Elizabeth had assumed. "Cause it's really not your style, Rogers." He had a point and Steve clearly agreed.

"You're right. It's not." Steve even kept up the 'nice guy' pretense by smoothing out Sitwell's jacket. "It's hers."

Steve swiftly stepped out of the way as Natasha kicked Sitwell of the roof. Smirking Elizabeth couldn't refrain from asking; "does Sam really have to catch him?"

"Lizzy." Stern Steve was not a nice Steve and so Elizabeth held up her hands in defense.

"I was kidding." _Mostly_ , she added internally.

"What about that girl from Accounting, Laura…"

"Lillian." Steve corrected. "Lip piercing, right?"

"Yeah, she's cute."

"Yeah. I'm not ready for that."

Elizabeth snorted. "You'll never be ready for that Steve."

"Very true." His reply was barely audible as Jasper Sitwell's screeching figure was unceremoniously thrown back upon the roof by Sam's now flying figure.

Sam landed behind them and, judging by the sheer and obvious terror upon Sitwell's features, he was more than ready to cooperate. "Zola's algorithm is a program," It was slightly humorous, he had gone from telling them nothing to not being able to get the words out quickly enough. "For choosing insight's targets."

"What targets?"

"You, a TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defence, a high school Valedictorian in Iowa City." He paused for a moment, before reeling off another list. "Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to Hydra." Elizabeth wasn't even surprised by this information, Hydra clearly had absolutely no limits. "Now and in the future."

"The future?" Steve seemed dubious. "How could it know?"

Clearly having gone insane through fear, Sitwell began to chuckle. "How could it not?" Feeling brave, he stood. "The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it." That seemed a little disturbing in her mind, but she couldn't argue that it wasn't entirely true.

"Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores!" Steve still seemed a little unsure, or perhaps he simply didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"And what then?"

Sitwell suddenly seemed to have an internal crisis of sorts. "Oh my god Pierce is gonna kill me."

"Oh we're miles past that, Sitwell." Elizabeth's biting comment seemed to be ignored entirely by Steve, as he continued with his intense track of questioning.

"What then?" This was clearly going to be something very bad.

"Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list." _Well shit._ "A few million at a time." _Well fuck._

* * *

The hurried journey from the rooftop into a car and onto the highway was one rife with rushed agitation from all parties. Now that the stakes had been revealed it seemed that the newly formed quartet were more than aware of the ticking clock on their backs.

"Hydra doesn't like leaks." Elizabeth rolled her eyes and seriously considered smashing Sitwell's head against the window of the car. He had barely shut up since he had spilled all of Hydra's dirty little secrets and her already stretched patience was quickly wearing thin.

"Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" If it had been appropriate in that moment, Elizabeth would have laughed out loud at Sam's tone.

Natasha then leaned across her, from her position next to Elizabeth. "Insight's launching in sixteen hours."

"We're cutting it a little bit close here." Elizabeth added, feeling nervous considering their time frame.

"I know. We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly." Steve was suddenly all business as he discussed his plan.

"What?" Sitwell's tone of near constant complaint was aggravatingly shrill in her ear. "Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea."

Elizabeth had been about to interrupt him with a swift kick when someone else beat her to it. Suddenly Sitwell was being thrown from the car by a distinctly familiar metal arm. She looked back just in time to watch a large truck drive straight into him, gruesomely flattening him. Fear spiked in her heart but Elizabeth forced herself to keep a level head, knowing losing her cool would likely land her in even larger trouble.

Hearing the assassin moving upon top of their car, she violently pushed Natasha into the front of the car and Elizabeth was vaguely aware that she landed somewhere on top of Steve. A bullet whizzed past Elizabeth's arm causing her to quickly, instinctively scramble in the opposite direction. Sam sharply hit the brakes, thankfully sending the Winter Soldier flying from the top of the car. Swiftly, re-orienting herself, Elizabeth stared wide eyed as the soldier somehow managed to maneuver himself into an almost upright position. Strangely, a scene from Terminator flashed before her eyes and she suddenly became very concerned that they were dealing with the same kind of unstoppable robot.

Natasha reacted first, grabbing her gun in an attempt to shoot the man; something that Elizabeth really doubted would even work. Hence she wasn't entirely heartbroken when a large vehicle crashing into the back of them caused Natasha to drop the weapon entirely. Elizabeth herself almost flew through the windshield at the impact and was now awkwardly seated between the driver's seat and the passenger's side. Elizabeth looked up to note that the one positive of the situation may be that they were about to run over the Winter Soldier.

Unsurprisingly her twisted hopes were dashed when he jumped up and landed on top of their vehicle. His boots heavily impacted the back window, causing glass to fly everywhere as it smashed at the impact. A sharp, sudden stinging sensation told her that a piece of glass was now embedded somewhere in her neck but she barely bothered to panic - the danger she was in was far more concerning than a small shard of glass.

Sam hit the brake once more, knowing there was little else he could do, but it had little effect. Terrifyingly, a hand smashed through the front window and literally tore the steering wheel from the car. Both herself and Sam stared, horrified, at the hole in the front window for a moment. Natasha's wild shooting rang through her head like a bell but she wouldn't tell her to stop – any chance at stopping this guy was a chance she would happily take. Unfortunately, he had already jumped from his position on Sam's car.

They were impacted from behind once more, but this time – with no steering wheel to maintain control of the car – they were sent crashing into the side of the highway and the car began to fly. Luckily Steve grabbed a hold of Natasha and Elizabeth, who in turn took hold of Sam's arm, and somehow ejected them all from the car.

Almost as soon as the quartet hit the ground Sam and Elizabeth lost contact with the other two but somehow, they still remained relatively unscathed. Although, Elizabeth was left with a large scrape along her left arm as she skidded across the rough road. The van containing the Winter Soldier had now overtaken them and civilian vehicles had begun to pile up behind them. They had nowhere left to run.

"Steve!" Elizabeth couldn't help the scream that escaped her as an unexpected and violent explosion blasted him from the highway. Suddenly her mind was filled with thoughts concerning how much damage Steve could actually take, could he even survive the fall itself?

She was afforded little time to ponder over the answer as bullets screamed past her figure, jumping instinctively behind a parked car, Elizabeth peeked at their assailants. Using guns, instead of power – remembering Steve's previous stern words – Elizabeth launched a counter attack. She had only managed to eliminate two targets before she was forced to move once more as a grenade was launched to her position. It was obvious that the Soldier was attempting to draw her out, clearly having been commanded to capture not kill, and she had no choice but to play right into his hands.

Elizabeth barely managed to jump over the highway barrier before the explosion occurred. More glass rained over her figure but luckily, this time, none seemed to pierce her thin skin. Wasting little time, Elizabeth took off running once more, the bullets seemed to mostly be aiming for areas that wouldn't kill her. It was unsurprising – Hydra wanted her alive.

Realizing that her only real option was to jump from the highway entirely, Elizabeth dove over the edge with little thought. A car exploded behind her somewhere but she paid it no attention as she concentrated on slowing her fall and softening her landing. Running straight to where she assumed Steve had landed she faltered slightly as the shadow of a man appeared before her. He was right above her and she doubted she could outrun any bullets he fired - and so needed to come up with a new plan.

She took a semi-successful calming breath, situated herself below the Soldier and fired a shot. All she needed was for him to duck behind the concrete for a moment. Unfortunately, she didn't manage to kill him but she did succeed in causing him to drop for cover behind the barrier. Taking her chance she sprinted for any form of cover.

Pressing her back firmly against the vehicle behind her, Elizabeth took a breath and reloaded her weapon. The sudden sound of bullets erupted ahead of her and her eyes instantly shot to the source. Smirking darkly Elizabeth noted that she had at least succeeded in pissing him off, something that pleased her far more than it really should. Firing a few pointless shots back at him, mainly to incense him some more, Elizabeth tried not to concentrate on just how much she was beginning to enjoy herself.

A few bullets hit the car before her as she ducked back into cover. One negative of pissing him off seemed to be that he was far less careful about preserving her life, something she doubted Hydra would be too pleased about. Having had just about enough of being shot at, Elizabeth took off in a run, using parked cars as some form of rudimentary cover.

As she sprinted the sound of cars exploding behind her became increasingly intimidating – he had clearly followed after her. Alone, with no one to back her up, the Winter Soldier was not someone she wished to contend with.

Hiding quickly behind a car, knowing that running was becoming rather pointless, Elizabeth realized that she had little choice but to attack first and hope she could survive. His figure was approaching her now, a few more steps and she would almost certainly be discovered. Thinking fast, Elizabeth quickly used power to create a small knock against the car opposite her, the quiet noise seemed enough to draw his attention.

Elizabeth almost marveled at how silently he managed to move. Crouching, he rolled what she assumed to be an explosive of some sort towards the car opposite her. Begrudgingly acknowledging that attack really was the best strategy, she quietly moved behind him. He wasn't the only one who could move silently, he didn't seem to notice the movement at all.

Before the explosion had even occurred she had kicked him in the back, both the extra power she pumped into the kick and the unexpected nature of the attack caused his figure to painfully smash into the vehicle in front. His reaction to her assault was impossibly fast, before she could so much as think of what to do next he had flipped over and used a leg to sweep her feet from under her. Ignoring the way her head heavily impacted the ground, Elizabeth threw the now useless gun at him, adding a little extra speed to increase the impact.

He caught the gun, like she knew he would, but it gave her the much needed time to jump up from the ground and ready herself for another attack. Elizabeth had the small benefit that he clearly wasn't supposed to kill her and so he had to hold back just slightly, whereas Elizabeth was aiming to kill and not much else.

A knife appeared in his hand suddenly, and Elizabeth felt a little in awe of his speed – she hadn't even noticed him grab it. Elizabeth didn't lose her cool however, being a Shield agent for almost twenty years came with experience and skill. Throwing out a jolt of power, concentrating on crushing his metal hand, she simultaneously sent out a powerful kick to his ankle. Unfortunately, the metal of his arm was far stronger than she had anticipated and the meager amount of power she had placed in the attack was not enough to do more than slightly jerk his hand. Unfortunately, he managed to keep a hold of the knife alongside expertly dodging her kick.

The human hand captured her arm and twisted it painfully and she was almost certain the knife was about to be embedded in her flesh somewhere but, knowing his human hand was likely the weaker of the two, she sent power into crushing it for just a moment. As a shadow violently encircled his hand and pain shot through his arm, his metal limb powerfully pushed her away from him – sending her crashing into the car beside them, effectively cutting off her concentration and freeing his hand.

Glaring down at her, almost accusingly, he began to approach her.

She could tell her nose was bleeding and she prayed she had just a little more power left to give before blacking out. Distantly, as she cautiously stood, she considered that black eyes and a power encompassed mind may be necessary in this situation. However, she wasn't forced to employ more power, his approach stopped and his eyes narrowed at her as they had back in her apartment.

It was the first time she had seen his eyes so close, so unobstructed and something about them struck her oddly. It was almost recognition that shot through her but she pushed the feeling away as she realized she was allowing herself to become stupidly distracted. Attempting to refocus, she watched him carefully – noting how loosely he now held the knife.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted to the right causing hers to swiftly follow suit. Steve was running right at the Winter Soldier, clearly trying to save her from another attempted abduction. Once again she felt an intense thankfulness for Steve.

The fight that quickly followed was fast paced and almost impossible to follow. Something that struck her oddly was the sheer amount of weaponry that the Winter Soldier had while Steve was equipped with nothing but a knife and his shield. Elizabeth was quickly becoming terrified for Steve, but as much as she wished to help, she knew she would likely cause more harm than good. She was quickly running out of power and passing out wouldn't help anyone. As they continued to fight, she noted that she could literally hear the whirring of the Winter Soldier's arm and it somehow made her even more tense and afraid.

As the fight became more intense, Elizabeth stumbled closer – using cars to support her now suddenly shaking legs. She knew why she was so weak, she had used so much power in the last few days that even the meager amount of sleep she had managed to procure was not enough to recharge her fully. Combined with the brutal fight she had just encountered, including various knocks to her head, Elizabeth was about ready to pass out for weeks.

When she finally managed to reach the pair, Steve seemed to be faring a little better. His Shield was embedded slightly in the metal arm, something which sparked suspicion in her mind as to the metal that made up the arm. Elizabeth leaned heavily against the van beside the pair, staying close in case Steve needed her help, and her eyes raked quickly over the ominous scrape alongside the side of the truck.

When she looked back to the pair, she felt thankful that Steve seemed to have thrown the Soldier rather violently over his shoulder. Intrigue bubbled within her as she noted his mask falling to the floor a little way from him, it seemed they were finally going to see what their infamous assailant actually looked like.

Everything seemed to screech to an abrupt halt when he turned to face them, even time itself.

Her breathing stopped short, her mind careened to an immediate stop and her heart seem to fail entirely. Staring at his painfully familiar face was like staring into the past. A toxic mixture of painful memories and bitter confusion raced through her, culminating to create an emotion that she could barely even begin to describe. Elizabeth was trying to convince herself that this wasn't real; that she was imagining things because there was absolutely no feasible way that it could really be him.

"Bucky?" When Steve asked the question she realized he was seeing him too and, quickly after, she realized that it must be real, it must really be him.  
Without even thinking she stepped towards him, seeming to have forgotten that he was somehow now their enemy. Her stumbling steps were quickly halted by Steve, who – without taking his eyes from Bucky – grasped her arm and pulled her back towards him, keeping her upright and from rushing towards their old ally.

"Bucky?" Elizabeth couldn't help the almost hopeful tone within her voice as she watched him. It was rather a pitiful noise.

At the sound of her voice, his eyes flickered from Steve to her and she almost instantly knew that he didn't know her. That realization felt like a gunshot – her stomach dropped and she almost collapsed entirely onto Steve. There was clear confusion upon his features but Elizabeth found no recognition resting there.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" If the words themselves didn't hurt, the fact that he quickly raised his gun sure did.

Neither she nor Steve tried to defend themselves, Steve didn't even raise his shield. They were both far too wrapped up in uncertainty and confusion to even move. Luckily for them, Sam swooped down and kicked Bucky from the air – causing him to drop the gun. Gracefully, he jumped back to his feet, spotting the two of them once more. After a brief moment of what she hoped to be uncertainty, he raised his gun decidedly once more. This time it was Natasha who saved them, using Bucky's own grenade launcher against him.

Instinctively, Elizabeth was terrified that she would manage to hit her target – that Bucky would be hurt. A strange and stark difference to her feelings just moments before. Thankfully, as the smoke cleared he had disappeared – apparently unharmed.

Elizabeth barely noticed the cars coming to surround them, or the men violently forcing them to kneel, or even the gun pressed to the back of her head – all she could focus on was the last spot in which she had seen him. Unfortunately, she couldn't help but notice the small electronic pads pressed quickly to her temples. Trying to reel in her reactions, so as not to show the intense pain, she felt a stab of blinding pain slice through her skull. If she could have thought clearly among the pain swirling through her brain she would have sworn that this pain had gotten worse from the last time she had experienced it.

As they bundled her into a van, alongside the others, Elizabeth didn't know which realization was worse; that her supposedly 'dead' fiance was very much alive and working for Hydra or the knowledge that Hydra now possessed her once more.

* * *

 **Hi!**

 **Sorry it's a little late yet again (Monday clearly just isn't my day) but it's finally here!**

 **I just wanna say a quick thank you to my one reviewer; your words literally made my day!**

 **Anyway please please read and review, I'd love to hear your opinions and your ideas on Elizabeth's power etc etc :)**


	7. Chapter 7

He didn't know what to think.

Uncertainty, fear, sadness and confusion were like bitter liquids mixing dangerously within his stomach, making him feel sick. Elizabeth's slouched form beside him, her head upon his shoulder, worked to relax him slightly but the grimace she held, alongside the way her eyes were screwed up in a near constant pain made everything a thousand times worse.

He didn't know what to do, how to react, what to feel, what to think - he felt as though he didn't know anything anymore.

He decided to speak, anything to slow the storm of thoughts whirling in his mind. "It was him." Elizabeth made no sound of reply, he doubted she could hear him over the pain in her head. "He looked right at us like he didn't even know us."

Steve didn't know why he was even bothering to say any of this, but he felt like it might somehow help.

Sam attempted to be the voice of reason. "How is that even possible? It was, like, seventy years ago." Steve knew this logic, but he also _knew_ what he saw - who he saw.

The answer struck him like a knife in the gut. "Zola." He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it sooner. "Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43, Zola experimented on him." Thinking about it now, it all seemed so obvious. "Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and…" Trailing off he tried not to think too much about it, but he couldn't help feeling that there was something more he could have done.

"None of that's your fault, Steve." He didn't believe that at all, but it was nice of Natasha to attempt to reassure.

"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

A hiss of pain beside him drew their attention towards Elizabeth. Whatever they had placed on her temples were clearly causing her immeasurable pain, he desperately wanted to just reach up and tear them off – to protect at least one of his old friends from Hydra. However, he sincerely doubted that the guards in the van would be pleased at the action.

Sam, however, seemed not to care for the possible consequences. "Is that _really_ necessary? She's not exactly in the state to fight back now _is she_?" The aggravation in his tone was barely hidden and Steve felt intensely grateful at Sam's protective nature.

The guard clearly didn't appreciate Sam's angered sarcasm, as an electrified weapon was soon pointed in his direction. Sam shut his mouth almost immediately in response to this action. The guard then attacked, but not Sam. The guard closest to Elizabeth was quickly rendered unconscious as the the electrified instrument was jammed into their side.

It all happened so quickly that Steve barely knew how to react. When it was revealed that the guard was in fact Agent Hill, he still felt an intense confusion but this time it was at least mixed with some form of relief. She swiftly worked on releasing him and, the moment his hands were freed Steve practically tore the devices from Elizabeth's temples. When the pain and tension almost instantly left her features he felt such relief that he could have laughed out loud. Groggily she opened her eyes, seemingly confused as to where she was.

Unfortunately, they didn't have the time to wait for Elizabeth to be okay again. "Lizzy," he began, as softly as he could muster, "we're going to be okay. But you've got to follow me okay?"

Her eyes skimmed around quickly, it didn't seem that she really took her surroundings in at all. "What… where's Bucky?"

His teeth locked together so suddenly that he could have sworn she would hear the clack of his teeth. He couldn't think about that right now and neither could she. "C'mon Lizzy." As delicately as if he were maneuvering a baby bird, he directed her to the newly formed hole in the bottom of the van. "Lizzy you need to jump through this alright, I'll be right behind you, okay?"

Nodding, her eyes were wide and childlike as she moved towards their escape. She dropped through it so gracefully that Steve felt a sense of surprise, she had always been fluid in her movements but he had never noticed just how much more coordinated and graceful she had become.

As promised, he quickly followed after her.

* * *

Nick Fury was alive but Elizabeth was barely aware of his presence and she had barely managed to react to the news that he was alive, her mind still groggy and slow after the pain that had sliced through it earlier. It was likely a good thing, she probably couldn't handle another surprise resurrection right now. The words spoken around her sounded muffled, as though she was listening through several walls and she barely felt Steve's reassuring arm settled around her figure. Usually, Elizabeth would fight against this numbness but now she welcomed it, not wishing to think too much about the day's previous events.

It was hours later, when feeling and senses had begun to return to her – maliciously almost - that Elizabeth was forced to confront reality. It was a painful thing, as reality almost always is - there were far too many things to consider, too many memories to analyse and far too many emotions to even attempt to ignore.

"Lizzy?" Steve's voice was a welcome distraction from her jumble of thoughts. Not bothering to verbally reply, Elizabeth allowed her eyes to drift over to his – indicating that she was finally able to communicate properly and to think straight.

Slowly, he made his way over, as though worried he would frighten her if he made sudden movements, and sat beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"I…" her hands grasped at the air pointlessly, as though she were attempting to magically pull the answer from the air. "I don't know how to feel."

"I know." They sat in silence for another moment, uncertain as to what should really be said in this situation.

"I mean… he's alive, I guess that's something." But she still wasn't really sure if that was even a good thing, she wasn't even sure how it had happened. "But he's also Hydra and has a metal arm and he's a fucking assassin and he doesn't even remember us, like at all Steve and he was trying to kill you Steve – his best friend! Steve that's-"He cut off her now almost hysterical words with a strong arm pulling her into his warm chest.

Sobbing, unsure what had really upset her the most, she grabbed a hold of Steve's shirt – as though attempting to anchor herself in reality. He was gripping her with similar desperation and neither moved for a long moment.

When she finally pulled back, she knew her eyes were likely red and glassy. "What do we do now, Steve?"

"I don't know." Those words scared her entirely. Steve Rogers, Captain America; the man with a plan, didn't know what to do.

"I'm _sorry,_ Steve."

" _What for_?" The tone of his voice indicated that he was entirely blindsided by her apology.

"I know I've been… difficult." Her wording was far from perfect but her tired mind could muster no other word to describe her behaviour. "I haven't wanted to talk about…. Well, anything that we _really_ should have talked about."

"It's okay, Lizzy. These things… they take time."

Snorting at his words, she smirked. "What, seventy years?"

Steve chuckled then, but said nothing more. They shared a somewhat reflective silence for a short while before Elizabeth spoke once more. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

She paused for a moment, unsure as to where her sudden desire to reminisce had sprung form - especially considering the fact that they had a multitude of other, more important things to discuss. "Do you remember that time we went to the movies and the ticket guy was hitting on me?"

Another chuckle sounded then. "Which time?"

"That time Bucky was running late, so he was being extra forward?"

"Oh yeah." He almost groaned at the memory. "That guy was _awful._ "

"Yeah and he would have snapped you in half-"

"Anyone could've back then, Lizzy."

"Yeah," she conceded, seeing no point in denying the fact, "but _despite_ that you still stepped up and told him ' _she's taken, now if you can't understand that, then maybe I need to teach you a lesson_.'" As she had spoken she had attempted to imitate Steve's voice and his poor attempt at intimidation. She giggled at the memory, before adding. "At least Bucky showed up before you had to ' _teach him a lesson_.'"

Smirking, Steve added his own memory of the day. "He wasn't happy when he turned up."

"No, he wasn't." She agreed with a large smile. "I swear the guy literally cowered into the corner when Bucky went over to set him straight."

Silence fell over the pair then, neither wishing to ruin their reminiscence with their new reality. Unfortunately, when Nick Fury walked through the door, looking ready to do business, they were forced to confront the truth.

* * *

He paid no attention to the man beside him, working quietly on fixing his arm; he was too busy attempting to sort through his jumbled and confusing memories – of which he had few.

He saw a firework exploding in the distance, red hues encapsulating the entire sky. He heard a laugh, musical and memorable. He saw the woman, asset 207, smiling – eyes sparkling – as her hair danced in the breeze. He saw the startling white of snowy ground and heard the high screech of a train passing overhead. Briefly he caught a flash of the man on the bridge, wearing red, white and blue. He was yelling something, distress upon his features.

Then he saw the scientist, whose name escaped him, looming over him. He saw the bloody stump where his arm had once been. The images were coming more quickly now, a blur as he rushed to understand. A cold table and blinding pain as they cut away the remainder of his arm. The feel of his metal hand around the surgeon's neck, the disturbing fascination adorning the scientist's features and the instant chill of being frozen.

He lashed out before he even knew he was doing it, sending the man who was working on his arm flying halfway across the room.

Guns were instantly trained on him, alongside nervous glances and stares. He barely noticed any of it however, too unsettled by the knowledge that he definitely _did_ know the people on the bridge. He wasn't quite certain how he knew them but he just... _knew_.

Time passed but he barely noticed, nothing changed dramatically, he was still sat in the same chair, trapped by a combination of guns and glares.

He barely even blinked as Pierce stood before him and he certainly didn't hear a word that was being spoken. The first thing he took notice of, in fact, was a sharp slap. It worked to bring him back to his senses but it did nothing to lessen the uneasiness he felt. "The people on the bridge. Who were they?"

"You met them earlier this week on another assignment." Looking away from Pierce, he couldn't help but feel that the explanation wasn't right. It felt like a lie.

"I knew them." Pierce sat himself down.

"Your work has been a gift to mankind, you shaped the century." _Had he?_ He didn't know if that was even the truth, usually he was barely kept awake long enough after an assignment to see the results. "I need you to do it one more time." _One more time._ It sounded like an empty promise and even if it was real it gave him no comfort. Pierce had given him no answers, if anything he felt more unsure now than he had before. "Society's at a tipping point between order and chaos, tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push."

He was barely listening to this practiced mantra, feeling as though the words were ingrained into him already. Pierce continued regardless, "but, if you don't do your part I can't do mine." He knew what 'his part' entailed, and he honestly wasn't sure he would be able to do it. "And Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves."

Freedom… _was he free_?

Looking back up to Pierce, a pained expression overtaking his features, he repeated himself – unsure what else to say. "But I knew them."

Pierce wasn't happy with this response, it was clear as day in his eyes. He stood quickly, barely sparing him a second glance. "Prep him." Distantly he heard the instruction, he tried not to give too much thought to what that meant.

"But sir he's been out of cryo-freeze too long."

 _What had the people on the bridge called him?_ He couldn't remember now.

"Then wipe him and start over." He knew what that meant and he felt disappointment; soon he would be back to having no memories at all.

* * *

 **Yet again, Tuesday is the new Monday!**

 **Little bit of a shorter chapter today, but I'm pretty pleased that I managed to get three POVs in here! Anyway, since my next update will be after Christmas I just wanted to say that I hope everybody has an awesome Christmas and if you don't celebrate Christmas then have an awesome holiday season! Also big shout out to last weeks reviewer (I love youuuu)**

 **If anyone fancies giving me a Christmas present a review would be perfect ;) xxx**


	8. Chapter 8

_"_ _If you're gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform."_

Steve's previous words had led to a small expedition, of sorts, for herself and Steve. Breaking into a museum to steal the clothes from a mannequin was not something that Elizabeth could say that she had ever done before and she couldn't exactly say that she was expecting to enjoy the experience. She suspected that Steve hadn't exactly brought her along just because he needed her help – the fact that he had been trying to get her to come to this exact museum for months convinced Elizabeth that Steve hadn't really been honest about why he had really wanted her to accompany him.

"C'mon, Lizzy." Eyes flickering forward, she looked over Steve's figure before her. While he still held his head high and proud almost, his shoulders seemed heavy and slumped slightly; as though the weight of the world was resting upon his shoulders.

Huffing, but shooting a tight smile regardless, Lizzy nodded jerkingly and stepped to follow after him. Red, white and blue seemed to spring up wherever her eyes darted to and, even without the overhead lights switched on, everything seemed to be overly bright and optimistic. She supposed the exhibit was mainly aimed at children but she couldn't help but feel that some of the truth of Steve's past had been glossed over to create such a cheery environment - although she could see that the darker facts of his life had been included somewhat, if one were to look closely enough.

Keeping her eyes mostly trained on her feet, wishing to prevent herself from falling into any memories of her past, Elizabeth almost walked straight into one of the pillars in the middle of the walkway. "Lizzy?" Steve asked, a type of bemused tone taking over his familiar voice, "you alright?"

Glancing to his now smirking features and sparkling eyes, Elizabeth found her lips pulling up into a returning smile as she shook her head at her own idiocy. "All good, Stevie." Steve did quite a bad job at hiding the eye roll he gave at her use of the name 'Stevie.' Little did he know, the more he showed his aggravation the more she enjoyed calling him it.

He turned and continued his sure steps forward while Elizabeth trailed nervously behind. Why she was so nervous concerning her surroundings she couldn't exactly say, but there was a bubbling of uncertainty within her as she moved further into the exhibition that she had avoided for so long.

Pictures of Steve littered the room alongside old propaganda upon almost every wall. A life-size picture of pre-war Steve upon the left wall quickly caught Elizabeth's attention and she gave a surprisingly loud laugh before walking quickly towards it. "Jeez Steve, you really were tiny weren't you?" He appeared beside her quickly with a wry smile upon his features as he looked down at how he used to be. "I do miss being taller than you…" She told him with a teasing tone and a little laugh.

"I don't." Turning to Steve with a laugh and a friendly shove, Elizabeth felt her nerves bubble away somewhat – interacting with Steve working well to relax her just a little.

Steve continued his walk down the decorated hallway and Elizabeth walked beside him now, instead of slightly behind as she had been before. She quickly noted the mannequins and uniforms lit up before a mural of the Howling Commandos. As her eyes looked over the uniforms she couldn't help but notice how bright Steve's old uniform was, she could barely even imagine him wearing it.

Resolutely, she kept her eyes upon Steve's old uniform and kept them away from the rest of her surroundings. She wished to somehow forget all about Bucky Barnes and his sudden, unexpected, reappearance but it proved impossible as thoughts of him continued to swirl through her mind regardless. Her eyes flickered to the image of him on the wall behind and her mind quickly became stuck on him entirely. All those happy memories of him, although painful to look back on now, seemed muddied somewhat by the menacing image of him ready to drag her back to Hydra.

She might have stood there all night, staring absently at the image upon the wall had Steve not obstructed her view unintentionally. With his back to her, Steve regarded his old uniform for a silent moment. He sent a glance to the uniforms surrounding his own and Elizabeth wondered over his possible expression – would he seem haunted, sad, full of far away memories? She couldn't be sure but the set of his shoulders was tense and telling.

Elizabeth lost interest in Steve's figure as he began removing the uniform from the mannequin and she soon turned away. Trepidation filled her as she spotted a large, towering plaque situated a little way off from the raised uniforms. Glancing back to Steve for a moment and finding him still working on removing the uniform, Elizabeth slowly - almost cautiously - stepped towards it.

She didn't bother reading any of the information, doubting it would tell her anything that she didn't already know. The silhouetted image beside the text caught the majority of her attention, her eyes tracing mindlessly over the still familiar lines and contours as her mind wandered away from reality. She thought of everything that had already happened, of the things that might have happened and the things that were still to come. The culmination of happy and painful thoughts was a strange mix in her already strained mind and Elizabeth wished she didn't have to think of any of it anymore.

 **1917-1945.**

Her fingers traced lightly over the raised numbers as she considered sadly just how wrong these dates now proved to be. In a strange twist of fate, she now wished that they were correct; she would prefer to suffer through the pain of his absence than to think of him at Hydra as she had been. Like herself and Steve, Bucky seemed to have somehow survived the war – against all odds and logic. It was strange, she thought, that they had all survived to this time and were now all reunited in a strange sort of way – it seemed almost like fate but Elizabeth's cynical mind had always rejected such a seemingly ridiculous idea.

"Lizzy?" The soft question posed beside her worked to recapture her attention. Steve was stood beside her and she gave him a soft but clearly pained smile that he soon returned. Only when his eyes searched her face with concern did she notice the slight wetness of her cheeks. His hand found hers and squeezed tightly, a gesture she quickly returned. "It's going to be okay, Lizzy."

Quickly, her mind returned to Sam's previous words concerning how fruitless it might be to try to get through to Bucky. While Steve seemed set on proving those words wrong, Elizabeth's cynical mind couldn't help but wonder if it really _was_ too late for Bucky. Maybe the man they knew was entirely gone; the Winter Soldier might look like Bucky Barnes but was he really still in there?

Elizabeth wasn't so sure, she knew what Hydra could do to a person, but she nodded regardless - not wishing to dampen Steve's ever hopeful thoughts. "Yeah…" Her tone didn't sound entirely certain but Steve seemed to ignore its waver.

* * *

"Steve, you look… very patriotic." Elizabeth had actually managed to forget what his first uniform had looked like and now that she saw him wearing it she realized just how awful it looked. The colors were far too bright but they still seemed faded somehow, the pattern was a little too reminiscent of an American flag for her liking and the helmet just looked plain odd, as though it didn't fit quite right.

"You said you liked it back in the day." He sounded genuinely offended and Elizabeth found herself laughing.

"Did I?" Her question was dubious, she was certain that if she _had_ ever said that she had been lying.

She herself had been supplied with her usual gear, it seemed Fury had known she would soon need it and somehow procured it from Shield headquarters. She didn't bother asking him how he had managed it, she knew Fury wasn't one to give away his secrets.

Tony Stark, of all people, had been the one to design it for her. Her 'uniform' consisted of a tight, low cut (thanks to Tony's personal tastes) bodysuit – very similar to Natasha's. The difference mostly came in the arms, short sleeves morphed into a single thin line of material that snaked around her arms before disappearing into black finger-less gloves upon her hands.

The entire black fabric of the suit was fitted with nanotechnology that he had specifically designed to enhance her abilities. While Elizabeth was entirely unsure as to how it actually worked, having zoned out completely each time Tony attempted to explain it, she was entirely aware of its benefits – with his technology she barely had to concentrate to use her power, she could just _do it._ It felt remarkably liberating to have that much control over her own ability and Elizabeth didn't think she would ever succeed in expressing the extent of her gratitude to Tony.

Strangely, he had also thought to add a black hood onto her gear, Elizabeth had absolutely no idea as to why but she put it down to Tony's remarkable flair for the dramatic. Of course she had added a variety of her own little alterations; a variety of places to tuck knives, a few places for guns – one strapped to her thigh and another tucked beneath her arm on her left side – and, at one point, she had even added a sheathe for a sword.

"Well, at least I'm wearing color." Steve told her, jokingly gesturing to her all black uniform.

Chuckling, she didn't bother with a smart reply, merely continuing through the woodland. They paused for a brief moment, glancing up at their looming target in the distance; the Triskelion.

"You guys ready?"

Elizabeth wasn't sure she would ever be ready for this and so, she left Sam's question unanswered.

* * *

 **Hi guys! Sorry for the super late update, but I figured I'd give myself a tiny Christmas break. I hope everyone has had an awesome holiday season and a fab new year!**

 **This chapter is another sort of 'slow' chapter but I felt I wanted to show a little more of Lizzy's reaction to seeing Bucky and build up a little more to the whole hellicarrier section of the movie. I promise next chapter will be longer and a lot more action packed!**

 **So next up I'm gonna answer a question I got from an awesome reviewer: _Little Miss Fearless._ I'm putting the answer up on here because I figured some of you guys might have the same sort of question!**

 _ **Is her power at least in part, some sort of shadow and/or darkness manipulation?**_

 **Your guess is a little right... I'm not going to say much more just because the origins of her power will be revealed a little later on in the story (not sure how far away it is at the moment) but hopefully as the story continues there'll be more clues and you might figure it out. I've already put a little clue in concerning the answer but I doubt anyone picked up on it!**

 **Also wanted to say a massive thank you for picking up on the Tri-skeleton mistake because I always get that wrong! I think my brain just tells me it should be tri-skeleton even though I know it isn't!**

 **If anyone wants to send in any questions about the story or whatever please just pop them in a review and I'll put the answer at the end of the next chapter! :) Anywho, thanks for reading and I would love it if you could review :) xx**


	9. Chapter 9

Infiltration had been a surprisingly easy task, it seemed that, although Hydra had increased their security, nobody had actually expected them to turn up. A few silenced guards later and they had reached their destination. Elizabeth highly doubted that the rest of this mission would be so startlingly easy, no matter how much she wished it could be.

"Attention all Shield agents, you've heard a lot about me in the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down." Smirking Elizabeth wondered whether he had rehearsed this little speech during their long trek through the woods and guessed that this could well be the reason he had hung behind them for a long while. "But I think it's time you know the truth. Shield is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by Hydra."

Elizabeth was slightly surprised by how bluntly he was putting all of this, but she supposed they had little time to break this news slowly. "Alexander Pierce is their leader." Natasha should be with the man now, Elizabeth thought idly. "The Strike and Insight crew are Hydra as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you."

Glancing sideways at Steve, trying not to make him uncomfortable, Elizabeth couldn't help but reflect on how far he had come. He had always been brave and a remarkably good person but here he was, faced with Hydra once again and being just as steadfast as he had always been. It was immeasurably comforting to Elizabeth and she barely understood why. "They almost have what they want. Absolute control." Pride swelled through her as she watched him rally troops.

"They shot Nick Fury and it won't end there. If you launch those hellicarriers today Hydra will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot but the price of freedom is high." Something Steve knew very well. "It always has been and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one then so be it."

Silently she raised a gloved hand to his arm, letting him know that she was with him – no matter what happened. The action caused him to glance her way. "But I'm willing to bet I'm not." Shooting him a smile, she nodded slightly.

Sam sidled forward as Steve finished and it seemed the same question had popped into his mind. "Did you write that down first? Or was it off the top of your head?"

Steve didn't reply but still attempted a tight smile. He was clearly preoccupied and she understood why – she too was slowly becoming increasingly anxious over the possibilities of what could soon happen, of who they could soon run into.

* * *

"They're initiating launch." Elizabeth almost rolled her eyes at Hill's voice in her ear, it was fairly obvious that they were initiating launch. Hellicarriers weren't exactly quiet things.

The three of them were already sprinting to catch up, needing to get aboard at least one of the three, although Sam clearly didn't have the same constraint as herself and Steve. Swiftly, he took off flying leaving her and Steve to jump over the edge and onto one of the carriers. Slowing her landing seemed to take no energy whatsoever and Elizabeth made a mental note to thank Tony _yet again_ the next time she saw him.

Almost instantly, bullets began to whiz past them. Instinctively, Steve raised his Shield and Elizabeth raised her hands – forming a shield of her own with a wall of swirling black shadows.

While Steve was working on shutting down hellicarrier 02, Elizabeth had been tasked with shutting down 03. And so, she was sprinting in entirely the opposite direction to Steve. It didn't take her long to reach the edge and, as the third helicarrier had already begun take off, Elizabeth was forced to jump the distance. It wasn't too far but she was still forced to employ extra power just to jump the distance.

She had the misfortune, however, of landing rather noisily behind a large group of soldiers. Quickly throwing a shield back up, she instantly dove behind what seemed to be a pile of haphazardly stacked crates. Sending searching shadows around the corners she found that three of the men were cautiously approaching from the right and another two from the left. Pulling a gun from her thigh she sent shadows over the trio's eyes, rendering them entirely blind. Springing from her cover she quickly shot the blinded three and jumped back behind a wall of crates.

The other pair of men were still searching for her as she silently stepped up behind them. Waiting for them to move just slightly closer to the solid crates Elizabeth sent out a wave of power, leading the men to be smashed into the surface ahead – knocking them unconscious with startling effectiveness.

She continued that way for what seemed like an eternity, weaving expertly through crates and planes to pick off soldiers, but she felt as though she was getting nowhere. " _Eight minutes_." Hill's voice in her ear was doing absolutely nothing to calm her spiking nerves.

"Got it." She replied quickly, stabbing a man in the neck and ducking to hide behind a helicopter.

 _"_ _Alpha lock."_ When Steve claimed his success in disarming his helicarrier, Elizabeth felt slightly desperate. She didn't feel any closer to the door than she had been five minutes ago.

" _Bravo lock_." When Sam spoke she could at least see the door.

" _Nightmare, Status?"_

"I might need a hand over here." She admitted, in the process of crushing a man's windpipe. Glancing around at the almost ridiculous number of guards still heading her way, she felt certain that she had drawn the short straw.

 _"_ _Hey, Sam, gonna need a ride."_

 _Thank God_ , was all Elizabeth could think, she was finally going to get some help.

She saw them land out of her peripheral vision and the three of them dispatched the rest of the guards extremely quickly. Elizabeth felt almost embarrassed. "I swear there were a lot more of them than this."

"Don't worry about it Lizzy." And with that, the three of them began towards the door.

"You're a lot heavier than you look."

Elizabeth was uneasy, her muscles coiling as her stomach did odd little flips. _This was all going too well._

"I had a big breakfast."

Out of nowhere, Steve was sent flying from the helicarrier and Sam quickly dove to catch him only to be caught by Bucky's silver arm and powerfully thrown aside. Sam managed to right himself in the air, loudly yell "Lizzy, go!" before shooting wildly in Bucky's general direction.

Elizabeth didn't want to admit that she hesitated, a little anxious that Sam had succeeded in shooting Bucky, before she begrudgingly followed his advice and sprinted to the door; trying to focus on the thousands of lives at risk and not the man she was currently running from.

As she ran she sent an anxious question down the radio. "Steve?"

 _"_ _Keep going, Lizzy."_ His voice in her ear was enough to quell at least some of her fears and Elizabeth didn't halt her run.

Reaching the door she practically ripped it from its hinges but as she began to dart through the doorway she couldn't help herself from one small glance back. Seeing that Sam was nowhere to be found, Lizzy took pause, but the sight of a murderous Bucky quickly caused her to sprint away.

Voices in her ear confirmed that Sam was still alive and as she reached her location she found herself relaxing, _maybe it would be alright after all._

Her ill-informed hope was short lived however as a forceful punch to her back caused pain to explode in her side and, as she was sent careening into the steel railing beside her, she felt as though her breath had been knocked from her completely. As she gripped the railing, attempting to keep herself upright, she was entirely unprepared for the next attack.

A kick to her ankle caused her entire leg to buckle but she was determined to fight back, regardless of who he was. Barely managing to block his punch, she sent a blast of power towards him and watched as he practically flew a few feet from her. Ignoring her idiotic worry for his well-being she sprung back to her feet and practically flew towards her target, shaking hands groping her pockets for the chip. She knew that if she could _just_ get the hellicarrier disabled that anything that happened to her after was of little importance.

She never made it all the way there. A screaming pain shot through her upper leg, causing her to stumble and lose her balance entirely. Heaped on the floor, tears of pain springing to her eyes, she slowly realized that she had been shot – he had shot her.

She barely had the time to react to that knowledge before she was being viciously pulled to her feet by her hair. Her head had impacted the ground heavily as she had fallen and the blur of pain was making it almost impossible to concentrate on her power, but she tried regardless. By the time her feet were skimming the floor she had managed to begin pushing at his figure, intent on getting him away from her, but the pushes were weak and ineffective.

As the hard metal of the railing behind her dug painfully into her bruised back, a cold metal hand closed around her neck and Elizabeth was suddenly finding it impossible to breathe.

When her power proved useless, Elizabeth took to uselessly clawing at his hand with her own in an attempt to pry him off. Her feet were kicking uselessly and faded tendrils of power were pushing at him automatically to no avail. Nothing worked to free her, her brain was quickly fading and she was practically certain that her windpipe was about to be crushed beyond repair and even her hands were beginning to slip from the one fixed around her neck.

Elizabeth resolutely slammed her eyes shut, desperate not to be forced to stare into the twisted features of her killer. With her eyes closed she could almost pretend that he wasn't the one choking her, that it was anyone other than the man she had loved for _so_ long - _almost_.

Just as she began to give in to the blackness that was invading her mind, the grip on her neck was suddenly and surprisingly wrenched away from her. Collapsing to the floor, heaving pained breaths into her lungs, Elizabeth tried to look up – see what had happened, why she had been released. Through the dark spots in her vision, she saw Steve and Bucky fighting.

Deciding that Steve would be alright without her, for a little while at least, Elizabeth tried to concentrate on remaining conscious. Each heaved breath felt like sandpaper was being forced down her throat and her body felt on the verge of giving up entirely. "Lizzy, now!" Steve's yell caused her to shakily stand, gripping the railing with white hands and pulling when her legs failed to cooperate fully. Looking over the railing she watched dazedly as the two men fought, her mind quickly wondered how they had gotten down there before she thought through what Steve was telling her to do.

Limping to where she needed to place the chip she pulled the servers down, and quickly replaced the chip. Collapsing against the side, Elizabeth congratulated herself on finishing the job before allowing her body to slump and her mind to fall into a peaceful darkness.

* * *

He had seen her fall from the corner of his eye and Steve realized that he could fight no more. If she was dead, if Bucky had been the one to kill her… he didn't know what he would do, how he could keep going.

"You know me." Then, glancing up with increasing concern to Elizabeth's slumped figure, he added. "You know her."

A powerful blow and a yell of disagreement answered Steve's statements. "No I don't!" The anger lacing those words convinced Steve that there was at least some doubt in his mind - perhaps his confusion and doubt had caused him to attack Elizabeth with such violence, perhaps his doubt had made him increasingly agitated and angry. Steve was desperately trying to make sense of it all in his mind, desperately searching for an explanation that didn't include Bucky actually wanting to kill them both.

"Bucky," Steve staggered upright as he spoke, "you've known me your whole life." Strangely, his voice remained calm and steady. Another agitated yell and painful punch answered his words and, while Steve could feel the blood lingering upon his skin, he barely felt the pain. His eyes flickered back up to Elizabeth for just a moment and his heart fell as he realized that she still had not awoken - she remained deathly still.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." He had expected the next blow that came, and the yell alongside it. Feeling his legs stumble and falter, Steve quickly removed his helmet. Sending another cursory glance to Elizabeth, seemingly unable to stop himself at this point, he found that shadows were dancing around her still figure. Not knowing what else to think, Steve took it as a hopeful sign that she was still alive and looked back to Bucky.

"I'm not gonna fight you." To prove his point, Steve let his shield drop and barely noticed as the disk of metal fell from the hellicarrier entirely – he barely cared in that moment. "You're my friend."

As he predicted, his words only seemed to incense the man before him further. Despite expecting the reaction, Steve couldn't shake the disappointment that settled over him heavily. Before Steve even knew what was happening he found himself heavily impacting the floor, causing pain to spring up in his back.

He could feel his face swelling in reaction to the brutal punches it was taking and he soon noted that one of his eyes had sealed shut. The words 'you're my mission' were batting around in his head and he focused on nothing but them as he fought against the haze in his mind.

Instantly, he noticed when the punching stopped. For a moment he considered that Elizabeth had awoken and stopped Bucky somehow but Steve slowly realized that that wasn't the case. Bucky had just _stopped_.

"Then finish it, cause I'm with you till the end of the line." Steve's skull was aching too much for him to fully process Bucky's reaction but the absence of a bruising punch told him enough.

The last things Steve felt before his mind slipped away was the delicate caress of cool water surrounding him and a cold, metallic grip upon his arm.

* * *

 **Look at me - updating on time for once! It's crazy, I know!**

 **Anyway...**

 **Big shout-out to _Jag_ the words you left last chapter! **

**Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I would love to hear what you think! I guarantee it will make my day!**


	10. Chapter 10

_"_ _Don't worry about it, Lizzy." He was walking close beside her, his broad shoulders brushing against hers with every slow step she took. "He was an ass."_

 _She hummed her distant agreement and glanced up to his bruising features before chuckling, for almost no reason at all. "Yeah, but Bucky…"_

 _Stepping up onto her porch and pausing a few steps from the crimson door, he looked back at her with a raised brow. "Yeah?"_

 _"_ _You didn't have to hit him." Her words were partnered with a roll of her eyes and a minute shake of her head as she considered his previous, overprotective actions._

 _Unable to hide his laugh, he looked away from her and brought a hand up to run through his unusually ragged hair. "Well," he began, almost thoughtlessly, "I've wanted to do it for a while." When he finally looked her way once more, his slight smirk fell slightly, as though he had only just realized what he had told her._

 _Shooting him a smirk of her own, she took a minute step closer just to test his reaction. Trying not to outright smile at the almost unnoticeable shake to the breath he took, Elizabeth gave a more subtle, coy smile before asking; "and why's that?"_

 _Seeming to notice the game she was playing he relaxed, falling back into his element seamlessly. "I said it before, doll. He was an ass."_

 _The twist of her lips suggested that she didn't quite believe him and, to reinforce that point, she stepped right before him and raised herself to the tips of her toes. Now eye level with him, she held her breath as she made a show of carefully analyzing his features. "You know Bucky," she began, in a breathy whisper, "this light_ _ **really**_ _brings out the green of your eyes." She was almost too close to him at this point to see the smirk he gave. "Or… is that something else?"_

 _"_ _Lizzy." Her name was a low sound on his lips as she finally settled back upon her heels. His head angled downwards to follow her movement and she could have sworn his lips ghosted against hers._

 _"Lizzy_ _! Is that you?" Jerking backwards at the harsh sound of her father's voice, her eyes instantly jumped to her still firmly closed door. Relaxing slightly, satisfied that her father hadn't seen her standing so very close to Bucky, Elizabeth quickly called out a reply._

 _"_ _Yeah, Dad! I'm coming!" Looking back to the man before her, she felt her cheeks redden almost instantly._

 _Ducking her head to hide this sudden discomfort, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile to herself as she moved to pass him. "Night." She whispered tightly, still trying to conceal her blush._

 _A hand placed lightly upon her arm halted her instantly, the warmth of his skin against hers sending jolts of_ _ **something**_ _through her. Raising her eyes to his slowly, Elizabeth noted his smirk at her obvious reaction and instantly felt even more nervous. What she was so very nervous of, however, she had no idea._ _He didn't speak right away, subtly letting the tension build in the air between them and Elizabeth held her breath – ensuring that she wouldn't be able to say anything stupid._

 _When he finally angled his head to hers and pressed his lips against hers, she could have sworn that her legs were about to give way but the warm arm that had been suddenly placed around her waist kept her upright._ _Hands grasping at his coat, pointlessly attempting to pull him yet closer, Elizabeth felt disappointment swell as he pulled away just slightly. "Let me take you out," butterflies danced in her stomach as she barely succeeded in hiding her smile, "tomorrow? Eight?"_

 _Humming with exaggerated uncertainty, she finally allowed herself to grin. "And what are gonna do tomorrow at eight?"_

 _His reply was a chaste kiss that quickly became less than innocent. While Elizabeth wasn't exactly inexperienced, she had never been kissed **quite** like this and she found herself rapidly losing track of her surroundings entirely. _

_Hence, the opening of her front door went entirely unnoticed until her father practically screeched her name._

 _"_ _Shit!" Was her nervous exclamation as she frantically pushed Bucky two feet away from her._

 _Warmth flooded to her cheeks and Elizabeth prayed her clothes weren't too ruffled as she glanced to her father. "Come inside, Elizabeth." She could have groaned, he only called her Elizabeth when he was absolutely furious. She instantly complied, not wanting to incense him any further._

 _"_ _Night, Lizzy."_

* * *

Eyes flickering open, Elizabeth instantly groaned in pain. Her body hurt _everywhere_.

Her head was throbbing angrily while her skull felt strangely as though it had been broken in half - like a twig. The burning in her leg was reminiscent of being set on fire and her throat felt as though she had been forced to swallow hot coals.

"Ah," came a familiar voice beside here, "she _lives_." The unexpected sight of Tony Stark beside her was a shock but Elizabeth felt too pained and exhausted to bother with much of a reaction.

Elizabeth attempted to ask what had happened and _why_ he was even there but the sound she made was much more reminiscent of something dying than of actual words. Tony's smirk fell just slightly at the sound, concern appearing in his eyes as he sat forward. "No talking, Liz." He told her casually, holding up a single silencing finger. "Doctors need you to keep quiet for a bit." As he spoke he reached towards the table and picked up a small pad of paper and a pen.

He passed her the items, clearly indicating that she should write what she wished to say. She wouldn't admit it but Elizabeth was somewhat surprised by the thoughtful gesture. Nodding, in what she hoped to be a grateful manner, Elizabeth quickly began to scribble words. **What happened?**

"Well, let's see" he began, fixing his tie disinterestedly, "Alexander Pierce is dead, Jasper Sitwell…" Sending her confused features a glance, he cut his list short. "Long story short, Shield's gone – Hydra along with it."

Instantly, Elizabeth went to voice her surprise but a choked sound met her ears and she felt instantly frustrated. Resolutely ignoring the concerned look Tony subtly shot her, Elizabeth turned her attention back to the thin paper before her.

Deciding to be concise in her questioning, feeling as though there were some answers she could wait for, she quickly scribbled a singular word. **Steve?**

"He's fine, a few rooms down actually. Simon- Sam? Is it Sam?" Assuming he meant Sam Wilson she nodded apathetically. "Sam's with him." Elizabeth relaxed slightly, calming as she was informed of Steve's stable condition. How they had both managed to survive being attacked by the Winter Soldier, being within a crashing helicarrier and falling, unconscious, into a huge body of water - Elizabeth couldn't say.

"How you feeling?" In all honesty Elizabeth felt absolutely awful but writing that down seemed a little pathetic and so she opted for a casual shrug instead.

Silence sprung up between them and Elizabeth was filled with a towering sense of uncertainty. She hadn't expected to be so suddenly presented with Tony after the recent revelations that she had been lumbered with. Picking at the thin sheets of the hospital bed, Elizabeth wondered and worried over how much she should tell him.

Grasping the pen once more, Elizabeth set the tip of the pen against the crisp white of the paper.

The words 'he killed your parents' scribbled on a thin sheet of paper seemed ridiculous and Elizabeth resolved that it would be simpler to wait and tell him when she could actually speak. Putting it off wouldn't make this any easier, she knew, but she was tired, in agonizing pain, upset… she didn't want to make everything a thousand times worse.

The pen was still poised upon the page, a black splodge of ink was beginning to leak from where the pen had been held stationary and she knew that she needed to write something, anything. **_Why are you here?_**

"What?" He asked, with a small quirk of his lips. "Not pleased to see me, huh?" In any other situation she might have given a laugh and a warm smile but today, she gave a small twist of her lips and a still quizzical glance. "Well," he began, leaning back in his seat, "I do occasionally happen upon the news channel. Figured you guys could use a hand but, by the time I got down here…" Looking to the window, he shrugged. "It was already over."

The words 'you're always late to the party' sprung to her lips but she managed to stop herself from speaking before her hoarse rasp sounded once more. Noting her almost dejected silence, he spoke once more. "You okay, Liz?"

A humorless laugh broke from her. She shook her head, a lone tear tracking down her bruised cheek. Her chapped lips were pulled up into a strange, pained smile and as she glanced to him she saw him nodding. He understood.

It was silent for a few moments as he considered her silent form of answer, before he stood. "The doctors wanted to know when you woke up." Before he left the room entirely however, he wordlessly glanced back to her and simply looked over her beaten features for a moment. "I'm sorry, Liz."

The doctor came in shortly after Tony left and informed her that she would hopefully be released in the next few days. The bullet wound in her leg had apparently healed far faster than anyone had thought possible and she was told that it was practically miraculous that the rest of her wounds were recovering so quickly.

For some reason, the doctor thought it appropriate to tell her that they hadn't expected her to even survive when she was first brought in.

The injury that seemed to be concerning them the most was her throat. She was instructed not to even attempt speech for at least two weeks and that for a month after release she would still need to come back for regular check-ups. Although she highly doubted that she would follow his advice concerning the check-ups, Elizabeth continued nodding despondently – barely listening as he detailed the extensive damage to her throat.

Out of everything they had told her concerning her condition, the thing that upset her the most was the bruising around her neck and she wasn't even sure as to why. Elizabeth resolutely told herself that it wasn't due to _who_ had been the cause of the bruising, or even the fact that the bruises faintly resembled a hand enclosed around her neck. They had informed her that the discoloration of her skin could remain for anything from four to twelve weeks after the incident and Elizabeth felt a little aggravated with their extremely non-specific time-frame.

Noting her general lack of response to almost everything he had told her, the doctor awkwardly left her to her thoughts.

* * *

The days prior to her release from the hospital had felt like endless years, with nothing to do and with no voice to complain, she had been stuck in her room doing nothing but idly doodling on the paper that Tony had supplied her with. Steve had been allowed to leave a few days before her and had paid her several visits which had helped with her boredom somewhat, but all she had really wanted was to escape the hospital entirely.

Tony had quickly been forced to return to New York, he gave a reason but Elizabeth couldn't remember what it even was - something to do with important meetings she guessed. Before he had left, however, he had offered her a place to stay at the tower should she wish to leave Washington behind and, as the days dragged on, Elizabeth was beginning to seriously consider his offer.

The never-ending nights had been even worse than the drawn-out days. Elizabeth couldn't sleep for more than a half hour before a nightmare of a metal arm squeezing her neck would force her to awaken. Even when she did wake from these nightmares, her fear wouldn't leave her until the first light of morning. In the darkness that shrouded her room during the night, it was harder to distinguish her surroundings from the rooms that Hydra would experiment in. The machines whirring around her, the needles poking under her skin and the harsh cold of the room were all too vividly reminiscent of her time there that Elizabeth had to fight to keep hold of her sanity.

Such was her relief, therefore, that she was now back at her apartment. She was currently cozily wrapped in a fluffy blanket, sat upon their tatty sofa, while Steve pottered pointlessly around the apartment. Sipping on her milk, as the doctors had banned her from drinking anything too hot, Elizabeth used a small amount of power to poke Steve in the back. As he turned to face her she used her hands to beckon him over and as he began towards her, she patted the sofa beside her.

When he finally sat down beside her, she noted that he sat far closer than usual, likely in case she wrote something down.

 **Steve, let's talk**

"Talk?" He asked, a little dubious. "About what?"

Rolling her eyes dramatically, she quickly wrote; **what do you think?**

"Really?" Skepticism was leaking from his tone. "Lizzy you can't even talk yet."

If anything, that fact was making her more anxious to 'talk' about everything. It felt as though they were ignoring everything that had happened and Elizabeth could barely take it anymore; she needed to at least acknowledge everything that had happened or she would lose her mind. It was even harder to ignore it all considering the heavy planks of wood shoddily covering the broken window and the garish rug they had placed over the blood stained flooring.

 **I don't care.**

He huffed a little. "Okay, Lizzy." Recently Steve had been giving in to her every whim, it seemed her helpless state had made him slightly more malleable.

Smiling warmly at him, pleased with his decision, she began to write. **Bucky?** It was strange to see the name written down and Elizabeth didn't allow her eyes to linger on the word for too long.

If Steve was surprised by her sudden openness on the subject, he hid it well - or maybe Elizabeth just chose not to see that everything she was feeling was reflected in his features. "We're _going_ to find him, Lizzy. Sam's willing to help and…. He _can't_ hide forever…" She wasn't even sure that Steve believed that.

 **What happens when we do?** Her real question was more along the lines of; do you think he'll kill us? She doubted, however, that Steve would appreciate seeing those words written down. Elizabeth, herself, had barely wanted to think about it but she couldn't deny everything that had happened on the hellicarrier.

"I…" He didn't know, not for sure. "Maybe he'll remember us, Lizzy. He's been away from Hydra a while now… who knows?" He was silent for a moment, until he noticed Elizabeth's clear uneasiness. "He didn't finish the job when he had the chance and… he pulled me from the river, I'm sure." He spoke the words as though they confirmed his exclamation that everything would work out perfectly.

Feeling intensely put out and angered at the entire world, Elizabeth tried to keep herself grounded in reality. **He almost strangled me to death.** As if to confirm that she was telling the truth she lifted her head to reveal her purple – green neck.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Lizzy." His tone was far less optimistic than it had been previously.

Steve didn't understand her fear. While Steve too had been subject to the Winter Soldier's violence, she doubted that it had been the same. The way Steve told the story it seemed that Bucky had _chosen_ to stop attacking him but, when Elizabeth had been being strangled, he had shown no sign of relenting. He had _wanted_ to kill her, despite his orders, she had seen the familiar intent in those cold eyes.

Unsure how to concisely phrase all of that twisted emotion in written word, Elizabeth didn't bother expressing herself. Instead she faked a smile and a nod of optimistic agreement.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Sorry for the slightly late update but I'm pretty useless at motivating myself to do stuff so here we are again!**

 **Another shoutout to _Jag_ for reviewing once again - you're awesome! In reply, I'd just like to say that I'm really glad you liked how I did the whole Lizzy/Bucky fight - I've seen way too many fics where he suddenly remembers the person and stops and I find that so unrealistic! So I'm super glad you liked the way that all went down.**

 **Next thing, I wanna explain to you guys how this story is gonna go now that CAWS is over. While I still want Civil War (or at least my version of it) to be a part of this story I don't want to just jump right in. What I want to do, therefore, is write a series of important moments in these guys' lives (especially Lizzy's) at various times after CAWS. So expect a little bit of AOU, a little of Lizzy meeting some other MCU characters, a little more Tony Stark, a little memory recovery and a few time jumps :)**

 **If you guys have any questions, feedback, thoughts, theories or anything else, I would love to see a review :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Four Weeks After the Fall of Hydra**

 _"_ _Are you sure about this, Lizzy?"_

Rolling her eyes at his insistence of asking her the same questions over and over again, Elizabeth nodded pointlessly before speaking into the receiver with an exasperated tone. "Yes, I'm very sure, Stevie." Then, glancing across the familiar skyline of New York, she added, "Besides, it's a little late to change my mind now. Don't you think?"

She heard a chuckle from the phone then and found herself grinning despite herself. _"Yeah… it's just… so_ _ **quiet**_ _without you around."_

Twirling a lock of hair absently around her fingers, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Quiet huh? I figured you'd like that."

 _"_ _So did I."_ The phone was silent for a small while, with neither party feeling the need to fill it. _"How's Tony?"_

Peeking back to the man sat behind her, Elizabeth smirked before replying. "Oh, you know… he's loud, annoying – thinks he's the perfect man, delusional."

Her list of Tony's qualities was cut off when Steve's laugh sounded loudly over the phone. " _So just the same then?"_

Tony shot her a look of mock hurt as she replied. " _Exactly_ the same." Shooting Tony an overly sweet smile, she glanced back to the bright skyline beyond the window. Elizabeth wanted to say something substantial now - to show him how strangely grateful she felt - but she always struggled with grand words of emotion. "I-uh…" Shaking her head, Elizabeth quickly rethought her phrasing. "Thanks for letting me do this, Steve. I just… I needed to get away… you know?"

A heaved sigh sounded from the phone then. _"I get it, Lizzy… it's okay."_

A poke in her back caused a yelp of aggravation to sound from her then and she swiftly whirled around to playfully glare at a smirking Tony. _"You okay, Lizzy?"_ Steve's voice succeeded in at least partially regaining her attention but she wasn't given the time to form a reply as the phone was suddenly yanked from her hand.

"Hey!" She complained loudly, her voice breaking off into a cough as she finished the word. Grimacing at the sudden flaring pain in her throat, Lizzy didn't attempt to retake the phone – understanding Tony's sudden disturbance of her conversation.

"Sorry, cap. Time's up – Doctor's orders." Tony was strolling casually around the couch in the center of the room, one hand resting in his pocket, as he spoke with Steve.

Elizabeth's gaze was following his every step, anxious to know what he and Steve were discussing. It seemed she had belatedly realized just how much she would miss Steve and wanted to at least share a last few words with the man.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell her." Tony glanced to her and made a show of rolling his eyes while pointing to the phone. "Uh-huh," he was now making a show of dramatically nodding his head, "Yep… yep… got it, Steve. Bye, Steve."

Elizabeth had the distinct impression that Steve had still been talking when Tony had hung up but she didn't bother chastising him for it. Following his lead in settling heavily down upon the springy sofa, Elizabeth shot him a sideways glance – eyebrows raised.

"What?" He asked innocently, as he absently flicked through the endless channels on the ridiculously large television.

"Steve?" Was the question she rasped out, her vocal chords were beginning to ache and she dared not attempt much more. Thankfully, Tony seemed to understand her meaning.

"Oh, you know. It was the usual dither." He waved his hand as though it didn't matter in the slightest and Elizabeth poked him in the cheek. "Ugh, fine," he groaned, "'tell Lizzy I said goodbye, tell her to be safe, tell her not to do anything stupid, tell her to listen to _absolutely_ everything you say.'" She rolled her eyes then and gave an obvious noise of disagreement.

"Okay, _maybe_ that last one was fake." Rolling her eyes once more, at his skeptical use of the word maybe, she heaved herself from the chair. "Where are _you_ going?" He asked, jumping up beside her – acting like an excitable child.

A little confused at his strange reaction, she gestured to the door and supplied him with a single word answer. "Bed?" Strangely, she phrased the word like a question.

His face seemed to fall somewhat at her explanation and he practically pouted at her. "Oh but Liz…" He gestured to the flickering light of the television screen before looking back to her pointedly. Elizabeth figured he wished to continue his aggravating campaign to make her watch seemingly every single movie ever made – whether good or bad.

Huffing, Elizabeth ruefully shook her head before heading towards the door. "Tomorrow." She shot him with a smile, knowing that insomniac Tony would likely remain in the room for another three hours or so despite her leaving.

The room she had been supplied with was huge, almost as large as hers and Steve's entire apartment back in Washington. It all seemed a little over the top in her opinion but she didn't know what else she should have expected from Tony's place.

The bed was exceptionally comfortable. The soft mattress gave way under her weight, making it seem as though she were sinking into a cloud or something equally as heavenly. The smooth silk of the sheets was instantly relaxing and each time they slipped over her skin she practically sighed in absolute contentment. Overall, it was the most comfortable bed that Elizabeth had ever encountered and yet, she still couldn't sleep.

After waking up in a cold sweat and with burning lungs for the second time that night, Elizabeth gave up on the prospect of sleep entirely. She spent an hour laying pointlessly in bed, struggling to prevent her eyes from sliding shut once more, before she eventually heaved herself out of bed. Almost instantly, she regretted her decision as the cool air of the room chilled her to the core. Snatching the thin blanket from the now messy bed, she moved to the window.

Elizabeth wasn't even certain as to how long she stood there at the window, absently watching the bustling city beyond the glass. When the sun cast its amber glow upon the city, Elizabeth finally moved away from the window. The sudden movement, after such a long period of inactivity, caused her to finally realize just how cold she had become.

Quickly moving into the next room, Elizabeth darted over to the thermostat – turning the heat up to a point that was likely a little unnecessary. "Morning." Jumping about a foot in the air at the unexpected sound of Tony's voice, Elizabeth whirled around and shot him a glare.

He made a show of wincing back dramatically as he took in her appearance. "Jeez, Liz – you look err… terrible."

"Gee, thanks." The tone of her voice was full of dry sarcasm.

There was silence then and Elizabeth could see that his expression was of concealed uncertainty. She doubted she would appreciate the next thing he said. As he spoke he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting to the side. "Nightmares?"

It seemed that Steve had said a little more to Tony during their phone call than she had been informed of. Huffing, as her hand automatically came up to rub the skin of her neck, she avoided his eyes. "Nothing I can't handle."

This was not a conversation she wished to have with Tony Stark of all people. She had barely wished to discuss it with Steve either but she had had less of a choice in _that_ conversation. Having known Tony since he was a teenager, it felt a little strange to talk to him about things such as this – she still sometimes viewed him as that devious teenager who never _ever_ listened to his parents.

 _His parents…_ Elizabeth felt herself grimace at the thought of them, thankful that Tony had moved to the kitchen and was no longer watching her.

She still hadn't told him the truth – she was still busy convincing herself that he didn't really need to know. Elizabeth was constantly telling herself that telling him the truth would only make everything a thousand times worse, would only make everything far more painful for Tony. Somehow, she reasoned that she was doing Tony a service by not telling him.

Elizabeth barely believed this convoluted reasoning herself but she barely cared. She wouldn't tell him, she _couldn't_ tell him. Elizabeth barely even wanted to think about it if she was honest with herself.

Nervously, Elizabeth began weaving her hair through her fingers as she wondered over the consequences of her cowardice.

Tony wouldn't find out… _would he?_ She couldn't think of a feasible way that he could learn the truth but she knew that life had a way of throwing curve-balls her way. _Would he feel betrayed?_

"Liz?" Glancing up nervously, almost as though she were afraid that she had been caught doing something she shouldn't, she found Tony poking his head around the corner of the kitchen. "Waffles?"

Pulling her lips up into a tight smile, Elizabeth nodded awkwardly and walked towards the kitchen.

* * *

The museum hadn't helped much.

If anything more confusion had swelled within him as he desperately tried to _understand_ everything that had happened. To _understand_ all the feelings and thoughts and uncertainties that had begun to swirl around his mind.

There had been countless pictures of events he couldn't recall, images that were most certainly of him but… _different_ somehow. The image of the man from the helicarrier dominated the entire exhibit and the now familiar pang of recognition continued to ping through him entirely. There were fewer images of the woman, but every small picture he managed to find increased his frustration tenfold. He _knew_ her. He _knew_ both of them – he was certain. It was as though the memories were somewhere within his grasp but he _just_ couldn't find them.

He didn't know what to do, he didn't know where to turn… he _just didn't_ know.

From what he had read he knew that they had all three of them been friends. The idea of that familiarity seemed reasonable and seemed to correlate with everything he had been thinking and feeling after their last encounter. The information he had skimmed over also suggested that he had been _involved_ with the woman – they had been _engaged_ even. It seemed ridiculous, that he could forget something like that, but he supposed the revelation fit in with how sick he felt whenever he thought back to how violently he had attacked her.

What puzzled him the most was the fact that he hadn't been _supposed_ to do it. He had been told, resolutely and repeatedly, that she was to be kept alive and yet, he had likely been just seconds away from ending her life regardless. The strange relief he had encountered when it had been reported that they had both survived had been unexpected. Strangely, however, it had been somewhat nice to experience the feeling – it felt almost novel to him, to have something he cared that much about. Why he cared so much, however, was still a mystery to him.

As the quiet bus that he was sat upon came to an unexpected stop, he glanced up anxiously – his muscles coiling, readying for action. When an elderly lady shuffled onto the bus and noisily dragged a suitcase behind her, he almost smirked at his overly anxious reactions. He couldn't help himself, it seemed, from being slightly wary of absolutely everything.

Hydra, although controlling, were a sort of safety net. Thanks to them he had known who was good and who was bad, he had known what to do and who to trust. Without that continued certainty in his life he felt like a lost little kid. Although he knew he wouldn't miss the freezing, the pain, the mind bending and the constant danger he was put through, he missed the security and the certainty they provided.

Hydra hadn't been a good thing. He knew that now. But the question remained 'what should he do now?'

* * *

 **Surprise, surprise, it's a Tuesday and here I am!**

 **While this chapter isn't chock full of action - I strangely really like it... obviously I hope you guys feel the same! This chapter, I feel, sets up how everything's gonna go up until civil war kicks in and I'm really excited to explore how Lizzy will be without Steve around all the time!**

 **Shout out to both the awesome Jag and the awesome cherubs007 for their reviews last chapter!**

 **I'd really love love love _love_ if I could get three reviews for this chapter! But, regardless of reviews the next chapter will be up by at least next Tuesday because I'm not that mean :)**

 **Thanks to everyone who has read, followed and favorited this story!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Two months after the fall of Hydra.**

Running had become her new obsession. Both the choking burn in her lungs and the dull ache in her muscles provided a welcome relief from the turmoil that was becoming near constant in her mind. Elizabeth had never considered herself to be neurotic or even nervous, but lately she seemed absolutely incompetent at controlling her emotions.

Elizabeth was constantly worried for Steve, having not seen him in two months – the longest separation since their reunion. Of course they had spoken on the phone but Elizabeth's now neurotic mind was becoming increasing concerned over his well-being. Most of her concern revolved around the idea that Bucky would eventually decide that he wanted to kill them after-all and seek Steve out. A level of guilt was always skulking at the back of her mind as she was still constantly arguing with herself over how honest she should really be with Tony. The answer was becoming far clearer in her mind, she knew what she had to do, but every moment she came close to telling him her anxiety kicked into high gear. Constant fear was also plaguing her, even a loud and unexpected noise could make her heart race and skin sweat - but she couldn't understand why. _What was she so afraid of?_

And underneath it all, was the constant, steady sadness.

At least when she was running she could clear her cluttered mind a little and concentrate on nothing but placing one foot before the other. Unfortunately, as she took her first step into the cavernous lobby of Stark tower she could feel the nerves and anxieties coiling in her stomach.

"Miss Boscoe?" A surprisingly short woman came tottering towards her, clearly unbalanced in her heels.

Confused and automatically cautious, Elizabeth regarded her with a look of clear uncertainty. "Yeah?" When the woman stepped towards her, Elizabeth took a small, subtle step back.

The woman's auburn hair looked frazzled as it seemed to spontaneously escape from her tight bun. "Mr Stark's been trying to reach you." She seemed even breathless as she explained herself, "for almost…" she glanced down at her watch then, "an hour and a half!" Her stress levels had clearly skyrocketed at this specific realization.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked, with a faked calmness that she hoped would soothe the woman.

The woman's emerald eyes flickered nervously around but she looked at nothing in particular. After a heaving sigh, the woman's shoulders drooped immensely before she seemed to give up on this interaction entirely. "Look, could you just go up?"

A little taken aback by the sudden dismissal, Elizabeth almost bit out an aggravated response but the woman was already ignoring her in favor of speaking almost anxiously down the phone. "Mr Stark?" There was a pause as she attempted to smooth down her frazzled hair. "Yes, Miss Boscoe is here with me now." A clammy hand appeared upon Elizabeth's arm and the woman began steering her towards the elevators - Elizabeth worked very hard to not automatically push the woman away. "Yes Sir." Barely even glancing to Elizabeth, the woman erratically gestured for her to enter the elevator. Eyeing the confining walls warily, she stepped inside and forced a long breath through her nose.

Luckily, Tony's elevators were lightning fast and she wasn't confined for long before the doors reopened before her. Hastily stepping free from the small elevator, Elizabeth's eyebrows pulled together as she found Tony sat beside a broad man in a dark suit.

At her appearance, Tony jumped up from his seat and practically ran towards her. "Liz!" He exclaimed with exaggerated excitement. "You're here…" His hands came to rest on her shoulders as he regarded her with what seemed to be worry. Elizabeth's eyes almost automatically flickered over Tony's shoulder. With slicked back blonde hair and apple green eyes, the man was pinning her with an almost threatening gaze.

Noting her diverted attention, Tony quickly worked to refocus her. "Jeez Liz," he scrunched his nose up then – shooting her a look of mock disgust, "you need a shower."

Ignoring the jibe, Elizabeth glanced back to the seated figure in the room. "Who's that?" Elizabeth held the distinct impression that the answer to her question was not going to be good. At his lack of response, she lowered her tone and regarded him. "Tony?"

The corners of his lips twitched just slightly as his eyes darted away for just a moment. When his gaze returned to her she could detect the smallest outpouring of sympathy and instantly felt her gut twist into fear. Panicked, she almost demanded to know what was going on but a cutting voice interrupted her.

"Miss Boscoe," he had stood and was absently smoothing down his jacket, "come and have a seat." Glancing to Tony, who seemed resigned to whatever was about to happen, Elizabeth complied.

As she sat, her hands uselessly came to rest upon her lap and she nervously picked at her nails. Shooting her an almost condescending smile, as though she were a small child, the man sat across from her. The way he lounged implied that he was entirely comfortable in the situation – a sharp contrast to the rigidity with which Elizabeth sat.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Elizabeth." He didn't extend a hand for her to shake.

"Who are you?" Her anxiety and uncertainty morphed her tone into something a little too confrontational.

His only reaction to the aggression was a small smirk, as though he had been expecting such behaviour. "I work for the government Elizabeth," she really wished he would stop using her full name, "I've been assigned to your case."

Eyebrows shooting up, she responded almost indignantly. "My case?"

The small laugh he gave at her confused and angered response was incredibly aggravating. "Elizabeth, as you know, with the fall of Shield came the release of classified documents."

Feeling her annoyance raise monumentally at what she assumed he was telling her, she quickly sat forward with crossed arms. "What? I'm in trouble for dismantling Hydra?"

If he shot her one more condescending smile she swore she might attack him. He chose to ignore her question, choosing instead to explain the situation as slowly as possible. "Those documents weren't just from Shield." Suddenly, her blood felt as though it ran cold as she began to piece together what he was really telling her. "You see, Hydra's files were released as well. In an effort to better the security of the nation we have been examining these files."

"Who's we?" She asked quietly, almost afraid to raise her voice at this point.

He didn't grace her with a reply – she had expected as much. "And, it seems, we've uncovered some _rather_ interesting things about you." She should have known this would happen – she should have run away before it could.

Silence coated the room and Elizabeth wasn't certain as to whether she was supposed to reply or not – either way, she doubted she would be able to give a response. A sudden dip in the seat indicated that Tony had taken a seat beside her, his hands were clasped before him as he shot a cursory glance to the man before them. "What can we do?" Her hands had begun to desperately grip the fabric of the sofa in a telling show of anxiety and she knew it was for the best that Tony did the talking.

"Well, the allegations against Elizabeth are numerous." Almost carelessly, he began listing the accusations against her, counting them off on his fingers. "Threatening both national and international security, torture, brainwashing, manslaughter… I would advise a good lawyer, Mr Stark."

He didn't say anything more as he stood and smoothed out his suit once more – he was more than pleased with himself, it was clear to see in his eyes. Tony was watching the man with his mouth agape, clearly taken aback by the man's abrupt suggestion and departure. Elizabeth could barely see the point in his visit, surely this information could have been told to her over the phone or even a letter - any method that didn't involve meeting this man. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, Miss Boscoe." She didn't glance to him, instead she continued to listlessly stare at a darkened spot in the soft blue carpet. "Mr Stark." The fact that Tony didn't stand or walk him out served to show exactly what he was feeling.

When the silence finally reached a deafening level, Elizabeth spoke – with a pitiful, broken little voice. "What's happening?"

"Lizzy." His hand pulled hers from where it was gripping the sofa, "it's gonna be okay." How he could tell her that with such conviction, she didn't know. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "I happen to have _the_ best lawyer in the country on speed-dial." Glancing to him with wide, shining eyes, Elizabeth watched as he waved his phone before her. " _And_ ," he began, attempting to lighten the mood somehow, "she just happens to be in the elevator right now."

That statement did bring some surprise forth within her, breaking her free from her complete fear and uncertainty somewhat. Seeing the surprised raise of her eyebrows, he quickly answered her silent question. "I like to be prepared." In response to her half-hearted snort of derision, he rolled his eyes. "Okay, _sometimes_ I like to be prepared."

The ding of the elevator punctuated his words and a short, stout woman quickly walked out. "Good afternoon, Mr Stark." Her voice was sharp and nuanced – it rang through the air almost effortlessly.

Tony stood quickly and Elizabeth slowly rose beside him. "Ah Sarah," Tony began, his arms raising as though expecting an embrace, "how long has it been this time, huh? A year? Two?"

Ignoring his outstretched arms, the woman walked past Tony and placed her heavy briefcase upon the armchair. "It's been two months, Mr Stark," The lady then turned in her spot and regarded Elizabeth with a critical eye. "Miss Boscoe," Elizabeth tentatively accepted her outstretched hand, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Yeah… you too?" Elizabeth wouldn't call this situation a pleasure but the woman seemed nice enough – if just a little uptight.

A smile appeared upon her face then, "my name is Sarah Burton. I'm your new lawyer."

"Uhh." She was a little lost for words, having never had a lawyer before, and she looked to Tony who merely nodded encouragingly. "Thanks…"

Sarah seemed to find her uncertainty a little amusing and proceeded to shoot her a warm smile. "Well," she began, turning back to her abandoned briefcase, "I've been reviewing your files over the last few hours, Miss Boscoe, and I have a few questions I'd like to ask."

Growing agitated once more, Elizabeth glanced to Tony – she desperately hoped he would leave but she didn't have the heart to ask him to. Her heart sank a little when he resolutely took a seat and indicated for her to follow suit.

"Right." Sarah had secured a fancy looking pen alongside a thick pad of glossy paper. "For this to work, Elizabeth, I _will_ need your _full_ cooperation and disclosure." Elizabeth was beginning to have severe doubts over whether she could really talk about all this – she hoped the questions wouldn't be too intrusive but she knew she wouldn't be that lucky. She nodded distantly.

"Right," she began, already jotting notes down, "let's start simple shall we? How long were you contained at Hydra?"

Folding her arms over her chest, feeling extremely vulnerable all of a sudden, Elizabeth went to reply. "Well –" She was immediately cut off, however by Sarah's specification.

"Exact dates would be preferred."

Elizabeth paused, eyeing her fingernails. "I think it was May of 1947 to 1980."

Sarah hummed in acknowledgement as she hastily scribbled notes. "So you were contained at Hydra throughout the Cold War." Sarah muttered the words to herself but she was clearly distinctly displeased by them. Elizabeth couldn't understand how she could write so many notes considering she had only been provided with two dates as of yet. "Do you remember the month in 1980, Elizabeth?"

She gave a small, almost unnoticeable, shake of her head in response. "Liz?" Wide eyed and surprised, Elizabeth turned her attention to Tony. "I thought you escaped in 1984?" Biting her lip, she shook her head once more.

"Not from Hydra." Elizabeth tried not to pay too much attention to the endless scribbles of the woman before her.

"And where were you for those four years?" Sarah's earnest expression should have been relaxing – she seemed so very calm and open to everything she was being told – but Elizabeth felt her limbs beginning to shake as a dangerous mix of anxiety, aggravation and panic began to spread through her.

" _Not_ Hydra." Elizabeth didn't think it mattered and thus attempted to keep her answer as non-specific as possible.

Sarah's lips twisted slightly, clearly showing her dissatisfaction with that dubious response. "We'll come back to that." _Please don't_ , Elizabeth almost automatically spoke this thought out loud but was somehow successful in keeping her lips pressed together. "Did you encounter any Soviet officials throughout this time period?"

Determined to keep her answers as non-descript as possible, wherever possible, Elizabeth gave a nod and nothing more. If Sarah was growing aggravated with Elizabeth's general lack of response, she did a fantastic job at concealing it – the only visible expression upon her features was one of genuine concern and slight curiosity.

"Now Elizabeth," Sarah had finally stopped with her copious amount of writing and was focusing solely on Elizabeth, watching her with a wary gaze. "I understand that this particular question may be difficult, but the answer is extremely important. I'm _fairly_ certain the opposition will focus their case on this subject and we need to prepare our response."

When Elizabeth remained silent, her lips pressing together resolutely, Sarah spoke once more. "I wasn't going to ask so soon but… I think it's important you comprehend the things they will throw at you, Elizabeth."

There was a sharp moment of peaceful silence before she so unceremoniously broke it.

"Did you play any part in the brainwashing of James Barnes?"

Her arms dropped from where they were secured protectively around her torso as she struggled to understand the connotations behind her question. From the corner of her eye she noted that Tony had tensed considerably, likely not having expected such a question to come up so quickly, and sharply turned to face her – eagerly awaiting her response it seemed.

"Elizabeth?" Sarah was pushing her to answer but Elizabeth didn't think she could.

"This is…" Elizabeth couldn't find strong enough words to explain what this was; awful, intrusive, emotional torture. "I…" Almost without directly choosing to, she rose from her seat - the movements lacking any grace or poise. All the negative, almost corrosive, feelings that had been slowly building within her for almost two months seemed as though they had finally spilled over – like some acid eating rapidly through any logic or reason she still possessed. "I can't do this right now." Her words were spoken quickly, almost jumbled together in her haste to get them out.

She didn't hear them call after her as she hurried to the elevator and stumbled inside, she didn't feel the usual, barely concealed, panic over the confined space of the elevator and she barely even noted the sick feeling in her stomach. Her head felt as though it were spinning – as though she were drunk – and it took her more than one attempt to press the right button.

People stopped and stared as she sprinted past them carelessly – whether they recognized her or were merely just intrigued by the desperate way she ran, Elizabeth couldn't be sure.

Running away, she knew, was a mistake. Elizabeth didn't care.

She only stopped running when her legs almost gave out beneath her – squeezing her eyes shut and forcing herself not to scream in pure frustration, Elizabeth merely stood for a long few moments. When she finally opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings with tired eyes, she noticed that she was surrounded by greenery. Trees and flowers littered the scene before her, the bright colors seemed to be mocking her darkening mood and Elizabeth wished she could blow them all away.

Rain was pelting her skin, chilling her to the bone and making her sodden clothes cling to her. Wet hair seemed stuck to her face and she knew her long tendrils would be immeasurably tangled but she _just didn't care._ There were few people surrounding her, the weather likely putting off the crowds, and Elizabeth barely took notice of the figures around her.

Slowly, unaffected by the heavy rain, Elizabeth made her way to the tree closest to her. The trunk was thick and rough as she absently grazed her fingertips against the bark and the canopy of browning leaves above provided her some rudimental protection from the downpour. Resting her back against the trunk, Elizabeth settled into a seated position and stared unseeingly forwards for a long stretched out moment.

Elizabeth held the distinct opinion that she _couldn't_ do this anymore. Everything had caught up with her all of a sudden, unexpectedly and devastatingly and she really didn't feel as though she could deal with any of it. She didn't _want_ to be forced to defend her actions at Hydra, she didn't _want_ to be forced to answer questions that inspired such bad memories and she certainly didn't _want_ to be forced to answer questions about Bucky.

All Elizabeth had ever wanted was to be happy and it now felt like such an unachievable goal.

The necklace she wore felt suddenly heavy around her neck, the sudden weight of it pulling her down – keeping her sluggish and endlessly sad. With fumbling, numb fingers she unclasped it and allowed her engagement ring to slide from the chain and into the palm of her outstretched hand.

It looked just the same as it always had, untarnished and relatively unworn. Her thumb stroked over the silver metal of the band as she considered the ring absently, her mind entirely blank but unbelievably full all at once. Almost experimentally, she tilted her hand just slightly and the ring slid from her clammy hands onto the muddied and wet ground – its shining silver looked in such sharp contrast to the dull colors of the ground that it seemed almost artful.

A large and sullen part of her considered leaving it there, nestled amongst the mud and grass, as she walked away. Use it as a symbol of letting go, leaving her past behind her and moving on entirely – _no one_ would blame her. _If only_ , she thought wistfully. She had never before been able to let it go, her past, and she knew that the circumstances of the now would make it even more difficult. Even now, she didn't _want_ to let it go.

As she picked the ring back up and held it tightly in her hand, Elizabeth suddenly just _knew_ that she wouldn't ever be able to leave it behind.

A sudden shrill noise startled her and she looked sharply upwards, expecting danger almost automatically. Nothing had changed of her surroundings, two figures still remained – one still attempting to coerce their dog into walking and the other loitering near a street lamp, looking entirely suspicious.

Elizabeth didn't pay much more attention to them, however, as she soon realized that the sound was emanating from her pocket. Pulling her phone to her ear, without even checking to see who was calling, Elizabeth began internally berating herself for running away in the first place. _When did she start acting like such a child?_ "Yeah?"

"Liz, you okay?" He didn't sound angry, she supposed that was a good sign.

"I'm fine, Tony. I'm sorry… I just… freaked out I guess." Her voice sounded horribly timid even to her own ears.

"Don't apologize to me, its Sarah you gotta worry about," Elizabeth heard a female protest from the line then, "she is _pissed_ , Liz." Elizabeth was already rolling her eyes, knowing Tony well enough to know when he was joking - even just from the subtle tone of his voice.

"Anyway, where are you? I'll come get you." Her lips almost instantly pulled up at that, immeasurably pleased she wasn't going to be forced to make her way back in the pouring rain.

"Err…" She gave a subtle glance around as she attempted to assess where she had ended up. "Central Park? I think?"

An audible and sarcastic tutting sounded over the line then, before he spoke with exaggerated exasperation. "You _think_?" She gave a small, tight laugh and it felt good; although it sounded undeniably strained it _was_ genuine and Elizabeth realized just how much she valued Tony's friendship. "I'll track your phone, Liz." There was a pause then and she wasn't sure what to say. "See ya."

The phone dinged then to signify the end of the call and Elizabeth shoved it quickly back in her pocket. She felt such a stark thankfulness for Tony all of a sudden that it was a little overwhelming. It was as though she were just now realizing just how much he had done for her over the years. Whilst she had, of course, supported him entirely through the death of his parents and had helped in whatever way she could, the things he had done for her felt as though they far outweighed her contributions.

Even just thinking of today Elizabeth felt flawed by everything he had done. With an hour or so's preparation he had secured her 'the best lawyer in the country' – who seemed to already be familiar with her files and background. The fact that he had simply stood by her was almost incredible - in a society where reputation meant everything, aligning oneself with someone accused of everything she was being accused of was a huge risk – and yet, Tony was taking it almost thoughtlessly.

He really did deserve better from her. She had to tell him the truth – she certainly owed it to him.

Underneath the towering tree, sat in the pouring rain, Elizabeth resolutely decided that she _would_ tell him the truth.

* * *

"What are you talking about, Tony?" Just when Steve felt as though he was returning to at least some small sense of normalcy, Tony Stark _had_ to call and inform him of yet another obstacle for him to struggle over. Steve was growing tired of it all.

 _"_ _Misdirection."_ Tony had always had a way of explaining his points in some dramatic way, Steve thought. _"Think about it, Steve,"_ the sharpening tone of his voice clearly indicated how negative Tony was feeling, _"people are asking questions about Hydra - how it slipped through the cracks, how nobody knew…"_

Steve felt his eyebrows pull together – struggling to understand. "What does that have to do with Lizzy?"

A heaving sigh sounded then. _"Misdirection, Steve. If people are asking questions about Lizzy-"_

"-the whole mess with Hydra can be swept under the carpet." Pinching the bridge of his nose he felt as though an intense weight was resting on his shoulders – pinning him to the spot and making him powerless. Enemies that physically attacked were ones that he could deal with - he could kick and punch his way out of almost anything - but this... this left him feeling almost useless. _How could he defend her against this?_ "Can I talk to her?"

 _"_ _Ah,"_ Tony hesitated slightly _, "she_ _ **kinda**_ _ran off…"_

Eyes widening and mind panicking, Steve instantly replied. "What?! Tony where is she?"

 _"_ _Jeez, relax Steve."_ This didn't feel like a situation where anyone would be able to simply relax. _"I'm going to get her now."_

"Where is she?" He asked with less urgency, but he still felt immeasurably determined to find out the answer.

 _"_ _Oh, you know Liz, she got a little overwhelmed and ran off."_ To Steve, it seemed as though Tony were purposefully attempting to sound blasé, as though he weren't worried in the slightest.

"Is she okay?" His heart was hammering in his chest as he began to fear the worst almost automatically.

 _"_ _She's fine,"_ his tone suggested agitation with Steve's questioning, but it was clearly faked to cover his own worry, _"I just talked to her."_

Glancing towards the door leading to Elizabeth's room, he felt a strange tugging at his chest – he _missed_ her. "Should I…" Hesitating, he glanced now to the wooden panels that shoddily covered the window. "Should I come see her?"

He expected Tony to snort derisively and tell him that Elizabeth would be fine without him. He expected to be mocked and told that he worried far too much. What he didn't expect was a heavy pause before Tony sighed and told him; _"maybe…"_ Steve suddenly realized how dire this situation must be. _"This isn't gonna be easy for her, Steve. Most of what they wanna charge her with is... true."_ The fact that it was Tony telling him this somehow made the revelation even worse – he was too used to Tony's almost careless attitude towards every situation.

He felt like breaking something – everything seemed so dramatically unfair. "Okay Tony."

* * *

 **Wow am I late! _Hopefully_ the length of this kinda makes up for it a little! Hopefully the next chapter will be up by Tuesday but considering how late this is just know that it will be at some point next week! **

**Shoutout to _Yarhissa_ and _Jag_ for your awesome reviews! I just wanna say _Yarhissa_ \- I sorta came to the same epiphany about Tony through writing that chapter and I'm so glad that I made you like him again!**

 **Again, I'd love to get at least three reviews for this chapter but I'll upload despite the amount I get! But still, please please drop me a review of your thoughts, questions and theories!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 13

"Tony, I _need_ -"Aggravatingly, he cut her off almost immediately.

"C'mon Liz, Sarah's not gonna wait forever." He paused then, glancing to his watch in an exaggerated manner, "well she will, but even _I_ can't afford that." It felt as though he were merely trying to make this harder for her. It would be so very easy to simply relent, to allow him to unknowingly prevent her from telling him the truth.

" _No_ , Tony." Her voice had taken on an authoritative tone that she could barely even recognise as her own. "I _need_ to talk to you, _now_."

The cautious curiosity in his eye as he turned to face her was unmistakable and she crossed her arms over her chest – her hands practically clawing at her arms as she held herself. There was no turning back now, she knew.

His hands slipped from the door handle and silently, the door swung shut – sealing her inside the room. A shaking breath passed her suddenly dry lips as he took a step to round on her fully – his fingertips were moving strangely, almost nervously, as though he were somehow aware of what she was preparing to tell him.

"What's this about, Liz?" The concern seeping from his tone made her feel even worse, she couldn't say why. The slim beam of light filtering through the curtained window fell upon his face in such a way that half of his face had been completely shadowed from her while the other half was incredibly illuminated – every feature, blemish and imperfection clear to see.

"Your parents." His feet shifted awkwardly, and she noted how he leaned back just slightly in response to her words. His lips parted and closed several times while the fingertips of his right hand were absently worrying the fabric of his suit. She had blindsided him entirely it seemed.

"What?" The breathy tone with which he spoke made it almost impossible to catch his words but she could guess what he had just asked her.

"It wasn't a car crash, Tony." She could see the clench of his jaw, the jump in his cheek and the lowering of his eyebrows – all the tell-tale signs of a swelling of some intense emotion. Squeezing her eyes shut, feeling her nails digging painfully into the skin of her arms, Elizabeth breathed out another statement. "It was Hydra."

He took a step back then, moving entirely from the light. " _What are you talking about?"_ He sounded so strained, filled with such righteous anger.

Flinching at the sudden fire within his voice, Elizabeth braced herself to explain even further. "They…they had something Hydra wanted so… Hydra killed them for it." Her voice was small and almost silent but the terrible quiet within the room meant that her words were clear for him to hear.

A hand almost violently dug through his hair and she watched as he shook his head in abject disagreement. A step forward and a pointed finger were paired with a harsh question. "And _how_ _exactly_ do you know this? Huh, Liz?" He was blinking rapidly, attempting to quell the shine in his eyes. " _How?"_ Elizabeth felt tears of her own spring to her eyes as he asked, his tone devolving into some sort of desperation.

Looking down and away, Elizabeth breathed deeply – trying and failing to settle herself. "I wasn't sure at first…" she told him with at least some honestly. "Dr Zola alluded to it but… I couldn't be sure…" He was staring her down, demanding more information with nothing but his relentless stare. "I looked through some of the released files and… I found the truth…" Purposefully, she phrased herself almost evasively – trying to direct him away from fine details. It was pointless, she knew, she couldn't leave him with only half of the truth.

The hand that had been raised, almost threateningly, towards her dropped entirely then. His entire figure practically deflated and he almost stumbled towards the chair nearest the door. As he fell into a seated position, Elizabeth took a concerned step towards him but stopped herself as she remembered the specific detail she was yet to tell him.

His head was resting heavily in his hands when she dared to speak once more. "There's more, Tony."

An almost hysterical, short laugh sounded from him then and, as he lifted his head to eye her, she noticed the subtle shake in his hands. " _More?"_ He asked with raised eyebrows and a dark tone.

Swallowing down her buzzing nerves, Elizabeth felt her shoulders slump. "I…" _How could she phrase this? How could she make these words less blunt?_ She couldn't. She was holding herself back to save herself from his reaction, from his accusation but she _knew_ he deserved better.

Sucking in a deep breath and allowing her eyes to flicker closed, Elizabeth finally spoke the truth. "It was Bucky."

She could feel a palpable tension building in the air and Elizabeth felt herself hold her breath - waiting torturously for his reaction – but it never came. "Tony?" Disregarding everything else, she took the small few steps to him and cautiously raised a hand to his shoulder.

At her touch, his head snapped upwards – his eyes finding hers almost instantly. Abruptly, he stood – causing her to stumble back a few steps. Regaining her balance, but beginning to lose her composure, she watched as he paced back and forth – looking more and more distraught and disturbed as he went. Once more, she felt herself automatically moving to comfort him – his actions, alongside his expression, reminding her intensely of the night that they had died. "Tony-"

" _What?!"_ He demanded, facing her fully with a tremendous anger within his sharp tone. "What do you want me to say?! Huh, Lizzy?" She didn't reply, not used to being faced with such burning fury from him. "You want me to tell you that it's all okay?! That everything's just _fucking_ perfect?!" She opened her mouth to reply but no words came to her lips – her brain felt as though it were stuttering and shutting down. The tears that had previously threatened to spill out were now staining her cheeks and she could do nothing but silently, steadily, watch him.

It remained that way for a long while – silently regarding one another and Elizabeth found herself worrying over how much this would change things. She watched as his eyes slid closed, as his nostrils flared as he took in a large breath and then, as he turned and flung the door open. Without bothering to call after him, Elizabeth slowly followed. He was leaving and she merely let him.

"Elizabeth?" She had almost forgotten that Sarah was still here – still waiting to ask her questions. Turning her eyes to the woman, Elizabeth nodded wordlessly. "Are you ready to answer my questions?"

Sparing a glance to where Tony had left, Elizabeth sighed and wiped her eyes _. She could do this._ "Yes."

* * *

The questions had seemed to take an age but Elizabeth had struggled through. She had tried to revert back to that all-encompassing flat apathy that had helped her through her time at Hydra and she had been somewhat successful in this attempt. Although certain questions had easily cracked through this façade, Elizabeth had not run away again.

It was the dead of night now – Sarah had left hours ago and Tony was yet to return. In all honestly she did not expect him to, at least not tonight, and she was constantly dreading the moment he did come back.

A bottle of whisky was grasped in her hand as she stood, listlessly, by the window. Her free hand had moved up to the glass, her fingertips tracing invisible patterns upon the surface, when her phone buzzed to life beside her. For a moment, she didn't react, almost certain that even more bad news was waiting on the other side.

When she finally cast a cursory glance to her phone, she chose to answer. "Hello?"

" _Lizzy? Did I wake you?"_ Steve sounded almost as worn down as she felt.

"Nope." She told him hazily, popping the 'p' childishly. "It's almost two in the morning, Stevie. Couldn't sleep?" She punctuated her question with another swig of whisky before placing the bottle heavily upon her dresser.

There was a subdued pause from the other side then. _"Not even a little."_

She gave a humourless, dry chuckle in response. "Yeah, me neither."

" _Nightmares_?"

Her hand awkwardly rubbed at her neck. "Yep. You?"

 _"_ _There's just a lot on my mind…" Was that the truth?_ She wasn't sure. She hummed loudly down the line, not entirely sure what she was hoping to achieve from the noise. " _Lizzy,_ _ **are you drunk?**_ _"_

Fiddling with the hem of her fraying shirt, she smirked to herself. "A little." He didn't tell her off, or even indignantly question her choices, instead he seemed to accept the fact with little resistance or obvious annoyance. "I told Tony the truth…" He said nothing for a long moment and Elizabeth found that she hadn't expected him to. " _All_ of it."

She could practically hear his surprise – her mind's eye was busy imagining the exact expression that would be adorning his features; left eyebrow just slightly raised and blue eyes meeting hers in abject uncertainty. _"Wha-How did he take it?"_

Picking up the bottle once more and regarding the amber liquid within, she made her almost flippant reply. "About as well as you'd expect… I haven't seen him since I told him."

 _"_ _I'll be there on Tuesday, Lizzy."_ A great wave of relief washed over her then – her eyes flickered shut and she even managed a small smile. The day after tomorrow – that wasn't too long to wait.

"Thanks, Stevie." He didn't correct her this time, merely let her call him whatever she liked. "You should get some sleep, Steve."

" _Yeah_ ," his voice sounded far away – as though he were barely concentrating on their conversation, _"you too, Lizzy."_

When the line went dead Elizabeth dropped her phone upon the mattress behind her and, upon glancing to the twisted bedsheets, she decided that sleeping was out of the question. Swiping the half-empty bottle from her dresser, Elizabeth moved to leave.

* * *

He had planned to leave the city tomorrow. But he didn't want to – at all.

He had given himself two weeks in Washington, watching from afar – hoping something, anything would spring to his mind. It had been a successful exercise – at least somewhat. Some of the previous fleeting images had been replaced with actual memories, albeit short and still confusing ones, and he felt like he was finally getting somewhere.

He remembered a scuffle in an alley somewhere, he remembered a diner, a house beside a towering tree, a fair. He remembered Steve being considerably smaller but then he also had some memories of Steve being bigger – specifically a time in a bar, there had been a woman there too, but he hadn't known her well. It was strange to think of him now, it inspired some sort of brotherly affection within him that he couldn't fully understand yet. The strange outpouring of emotion he felt helped anchor his fuzzy memories to himself, helped to prove that they were, in fact, his own.

Whilst there had been, and still was, a tremendous level of frustration alongside these confusing half memories, he couldn't help but feel some level of relief that he could remember somethings at least. And yet, he remained dissatisfied. _She_ hadn't been there, much to his confusion, and he had barely been able to catch more than a glimpse of her in his memory. Staying in Washington for as long as he had was dangerous enough and he knew that heading to New York was damn near suicidal but he just _had_ to know. He _needed_ to remember.

His time there had been wrought with caution and more than a little fear. Constant worry that someone would recognise him had plagued almost every thought he had but as the days had slipped by he had become less preoccupied with precaution and more focused on why he was there. It had helped, significantly – visuals seemed to jog his memory more than anything else.

Even from afar, she had seemed tired – exhausted almost. Slumped shoulders seemed unfamiliar on her but he couldn't be sure, she seemed thinner and endlessly preoccupied. He was lucky she even ever left the safety of the tower but he had a feeling that she had never liked being cooped up inside. She ran every day and always ended up in the park, something about the quiet there seemed to relax her and the cold had never seemed to bother her.

Stilted but sure memories had sprung to him and he found himself increasingly invested in discovering who he used to be. He found himself increasingly invested in these people that knew him. He could remember talking to her in a diner somewhere, he could remember walking her home late at night, he could remember telling her he loved her, asking her to marry him. It was disjointed and disordered but it was enough, at least for now.

While he had had his reservations over leaving, he had been somewhat resigned to the fact that he had to. But now, after today, he wasn't so sure. Something must have happened, but he couldn't think what. She had seemed so... _distraught_. He was just lucky he had seen her sprinting through the streets – for a moment he felt genuine panic that she was being chased but when she stopped and practically collapsed against that tree, he had known it was something else.

Helpless was a poor word to describe how he felt then. He didn't know what to do, in truth there was nothing he _could_ do without making the whole situation worse. And so, he had stood awkwardly off to the side, watching her with wary eyes.

And now, he wasn't sure if he really could leave, despite knowing that he _had_ to. He had reasoned with himself that there really was nothing he could do, there was no way he could even hope to find out what had happened. But, carrying his sparsely packed bag over his shoulder and heading down the sidewalk, he still felt uncertain.

Suddenly, she was there – before him. She seemed to be idly walking, without a care as to where she was going but, by now, he knew better. He had stopped in the middle of the street, his hand gripping the bag he held just slightly tighter as he watched her. He _was_ going follow after her, he didn't even know what he had stopped to consider.

She was carrying something, it looked like a bottle hastily stuffed into a brown paper bag and Bucky suddenly felt his concern dramatically increase. It wasn't difficult to subtly follow her, she was barely paying attention to anything it seemed – her eyes wandering aimlessly from the dark sky above to the puddles littering the pavement.

He didn't pay much attention to the sure passage of time but he knew it was very late - or early. Elizabeth didn't seem to mind that the park was closed, she merely walked to a rather inconspicuous area of fencing and quickly, easily jumped over it. Briefly, he wondered just how often she had done this before – she seemed to know exactly where she was going.

She only stopped when she reached the carousel, regarding it almost wistfully before taking a seat before it. The park bench she sat upon was damp from the previous rain but she didn't seem to care as she pulled her legs up beside her – practically lounging as she pulled the bottle up to her lips. The swish of liquid was followed by a hiss of air escaping her lips and she tilted her head back – allowing it to rest upon the wood of the seat behind her. The familiar gold of her hair was swaying gently in the light breeze as she heaved a sigh and cradled the half-empty bottle to her side.

Something was wrong, he had known that already but now the fact felt like a flashing light before his eyes – impossible to ignore.

Without thinking he took a step forward. "Lizzy?"

* * *

 **Wow so this is LATE! But I've finally managed to finish this!**

 **As per usual, Shoutout to my awesome, loyal reviewer _Jag_ for making my day! **

**Now I would LOVE if you guys could drop me a review! A few words is really all it takes to make me smile. So please feel free to leave any thoughts, questions, theories - anything!**


	14. Chapter 14

Her head jerked up as her eyes flew open. Her body twisted awkwardly and almost violently as she turned to face where he was stood. Instantly she jumped up and away, her hands thrown up defensively before her as shadowed power slipped seamlessly between her slender fingers. She likely hadn't noticed but her shoulders were beginning to shiver almost violently and he could have sworn that her full lips were slowly becoming blue. Wide blue eyes were fixed relentlessly upon his still figure, the smallest smattering of fear sparkling within them.

He should have expected her to react this way but that fact didn't prevent the small stab of pain that shot through his chest at the sight of her obvious fear. Taking a step back and throwing his hands up he desperately tried to make himself appear as less of a threat but it didn't seem to have any effect whatsoever.

"What…" she began, voice shaking in the same way that her arms shivered. She didn't bother finishing her question, maybe she wasn't sure what to even say. He too was struggling for words – he hadn't thought this through, at all.

"Lizzy," her defensive stance seemed to falter slightly as she realised what he had actually called her. Chancing a step closer, despite the bench between them, he spoke quietly. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Her eyes flickered momentarily to his left hand and he instantly felt himself grimace. Dropping his hands from her sight, he warily waited for her to say something, anything at all. When the lilting sound of her voice didn't sound and her shivering progressed to concerning levels he found that he physically couldn't wait any longer. Keeping a steady gaze settled upon her, he shrugged his heavy coat from his shoulders and pointedly held it out to her.

Her eyes flickered down to the coat before cautiously returning to his face. Suddenly, Bucky felt a strange, almost warm, sensation upon his skin – as though he were being touched lightly. Glancing to his outstretched arm he saw black shadows dancing across his skin, the sensation was… odd but not necessarily unpleasant. When his gaze returned to her once more, he realized what she was doing – keeping him from moving as she sidled forwards to snatch the coat from his grip. As she moved he found her eyes, glowing white just as he somehow knew they would be.

When she had retreated somewhat, she released him from her shadowed restraint before hastily wrapping his coat around her shoulders. Her eyes closed in clear relief as she did so, seeming not to have realized just how cold she had become, but soon enough they opened once more and were fixed warily upon him.

"You're not here to kill me?" The fact that she even had to ask disappointed him immensely but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised – especially considering that the last time she had seen him he had almost done just that.

"No," he told her, voice almost earnest in tone, "Lizzy…" He trailed off dumbly when he realized that he had no idea what to say to put her at ease – he was certain that he used to know the exact words to employ to instantly calm her but now he was left with entirely no idea.

Clutching the oversized coat closer to her still shivering figure, she gave a small curt nod – but was clearly still uneasy. To his surprise, she proceeded to move closer to him – if only to perch upon the bench between them once more. Elizabeth pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them to herself as her hand went to grasp the bottle once more.

Knowing that he couldn't just leave her there, and that he didn't really want to anyway, he picked his bag up from where he had discarded it beside him – something he couldn't even remember doing – and took a seat beside her. He didn't sit as close to her as he would have liked, leaving enough space between them to ensure that she wouldn't feel so afraid.

"Want some?" Glancing to the side with considerable surprise he found her outstretched arm offering him a drink. He merely shook his head and took to subtly eying her – wondering just how much she had drunk so far. He supposed alcohol could explain her sudden and suprising lack of outward reaction at his sudden appearance.

Shrugging, eyes still fixed upon the carousel before them, she took a long drink.

The silence stretched on, only occasionally punctuated by the swish of liquid as she drank, but he knew he couldn't leave yet. Eventually, her façade of apathy seemed to break completely – she looked to him with crumpled features and shining eyes. "Do you…" He sat forward at her stuttered question, hanging on her every word, "do you remember me?"

His lips fell open instantly, ready to reply with 'yes, of course," but he held himself back – despite her thick tone and teary eyes he couldn't help but feel as though telling her the truth would do her more harm than good. Surely it was worse to tell her that he remembered at least some of her only for him to pack up and leave straight away – maybe if he told her the truth she would convince him to stay and that was… _dangerous_. Being connected with him was just too risky and it seemed she had enough problems of her own to deal with – he didn't want to add to that pressure.

There was also an almost subconscious part of him that simply didn't want to have to live up to what she remembered him to be – mostly because he knew that he couldn't.

He pressed his lips together and looked away, he shouldn't do this. "No." He kept his gaze averted for as long as he was able but, almost automatically, his eyes made their way back to her.

A tear had escaped her eyes, now squeezed shut as she gave a dejected little nod. When her eyes reopened she made a clear effort to avoid his stare and instead turned back to the bottle in her hand – she took another swig and he noticed how alarmingly empty the bottle was quickly becoming.

"Okay," she whispered, voice strained as she stared unseeingly at the carousel before them. He should leave – he knew that staying, sat beside her, was only going to make this harder, but he didn't seem to have any motivation to stand and leave her. "Then what do you want?" Her tone was sharp but he could sense some sort of vulnerability behind it.

"What happened today?" Her eyes darted to his, a clear suspicion sparking within the blue hues.

"Something happened today?" Her real question was clear behind the sarcastic words; _how do you know?_

Floundering slightly, for only a second, he clasped his hands together mind searching for an explanation that didn't include the fact that he had been following her for two weeks. "It's the middle of the night," he began slowly, mind working frantically as he attempted to sound convincing, "and you're drinking alone on a park bench."

She scoffed, absently tapping her fingers against the glass of the bottle as an almost melancholy smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe this is just who I am… a _fucking mess_ …" She gave a dry chuckle at that and he felt himself lean towards her just slightly. "You wouldn't know, would you?" Her eyebrows quirked and lips pulled up into an almost teasing smile but he could see that these expressions of nonchalance were clearly faked – the shine of her eyes and the tightness of the smile gave her away.

He didn't reply, there was nothing he could think to say – without telling her the truth he doubted there was _any_ way that she would tell him what had happened. He was a mere moment away from dropping his façade of indifference completely and just telling her the truth – that he knew her, at least partially, but she spoke before he could. "I'm gonna be locked up again, that's what happened today." Her nails had begun pinching awkwardly at her skin as she spoke and he watched the ruminations with fascination – she used to do that whenever she felt nervous, or scared, he was sure. "I mean Tony _says_ everything'll be fine but even _he_ doesn't believe that, I can tell – he looks at me like I'm some... abandoned puppy." Downcast eyes returned to the bottle again and, this time, before she could lift it to her lips he pulled it from her clutches.

She didn't seem angry with him for this, in fact she barely even seemed to notice that the bottle had been taken away, she merely watched him. Curiosity, uncertainty and suspicion sparkled in her eyes and he wasn't certain how much longer he could take that look from her. "Why are you here?" Her tone had become something soft and openly vulnerable. "You don't know me, so you shouldn't really care what I do – so _what is it_?"

She looked so desperate for answers but he couldn't give them to her, not without giving too much away. "I'm… leaving."

Slowly, she blinked – eyebrows creeping together as she processed his answer. "Okay…" she answered distractedly, "where to?" He remained silent – he wasn't even sure where he was going to go, just _away_. She interpreted his silence as a refusal to answer and huffed slightly, before bringing her hands up to her neck. "Well wherever you're going, take this with you."

Smoothly, she brought her hand down and held it out to him. As he glanced down and found a simple ring resting in the palm of her hand, he felt his heart lurch painfully. Eyes darting to hers, he found that she was apathetically staring down to her palm – almost as though there was nothing of interest there at all. Maybe there was nothing there for her anymore - that thought affected him strangely.

"Lizzy-" He went to protest, tell her that he couldn't - wouldn't - take it back, but she cut him off.

"Look I don't- I _can't_ have this anymore… I just can't… and, who knows, maybe it'll jog your memory." She sounded remarkably dubious as she finished speaking, as though she had no faith in him remembering anything at all – he supposed that was partly his fault.

As he reluctantly picked up the ring from her palm, his fingertips grazed the skin there. That simple touch was enough to make him seriously rethink everything – leaving, lying, the whole thing – but the way she snatched her hand back as though she had been burnt brought him crashing back to reality.

Tearing himself away from her, not that he had even been as close as he would have liked, he stood and faced her. "Lizzy… will you be okay?" He was stalling, keeping himself here despite knowing that he shouldn't.

She gave a breathy laugh. "I haven't been okay in seventy years, why start now?" Her tone was sullen and pulled at him oddly. Standing and squaring her shoulders as though readying for action, she stepped towards him. He found himself holding his breath.

A pen was twirling through her fingers, the one he kept in his coat in case he remembered anything suddenly, as she used power to gently pull his right arm up to her. Barely paying attention to what she intended to do, too in awe of the feel of her cool fingertips grazing against his skin as she pushed up his sleeve, he held himself still. Reflecting on his, admittedly hazy, collection of muddied memories, he realised something rather suddenly. Just as brotherly affection had returned, in force, to him alongside memories of Steve – the same had happened with Elizabeth. Affection, care and even love coursed through him as he stood this close to her, her hands upon his skin.

When he felt the sharp point of the pen against his skin, he finally looked away from her features and to his arm. Numbers were being scrawled upon the skin there in a messy handwriting that indicated her rush to move away from him. The steps she hastily took backwards were clumsy and unbalanced leading to her almost falling.

Once she settled a safe distance from him, she spoke in a rushed tone. "If you're ever in trouble or… anything, call me – I'll… help you out." As she spoke she went to shrug his coat from her slim shoulders, clearly intent on returning the garment.

"Keep it." The look she shot him was questioning and somewhat intense, but eventually she dropped his gaze and shrugged. She sat heavily on the bench, all the air appearing to leave her as she sat – her entire figure slumping and becoming almost lost beneath his coat.

He didn't move for a long while and she reacted to his continued presence badly. "Look, can you just _go_?" The accusatory look she gave him was softened by the silent tears tracking down her cheek. "If you're gonna leave just… _fucking_ do it." Her voice was almost silent as she finished, the strain of holding back tears evident.

Seeing her teetering on the edge falling apart entirely wasn't doing him any good – he couldn't remember wanting anything as much as he wanted to stay by her side. "Goodbye, Lizzy." He spoke the words softly, as though merely testing the shape of them on his lips.

Her bright eyes were squeezed shut as she frowned deeply, face angled from him. Warily, she turned her sombre gaze to him – but only for a moment. As though something she saw pained her greatly, she turned away once more – hair falling before her face and veiling her features from him. "Goodbye, Bucky."

Knowing that he really had to leave, and now, he begrudgingly picked up his bag – spared her a last, likely too long, look – before walking away.

* * *

When she gained the strength to look back up, he was gone and Elizabeth felt a pitiful sob rise in her throat. Tears seemed to flood from her eyes as she struggled to take breath and her hands were strangely grasping at the air – as though she were desperate for something to cling to. She had wanted to ask him to stay, beg him to if it came to it, but she knew how pointless it would have been - he didn't know her, he didn't _care_. And yet, had he asked her to, she would have dropped everything and left with him. That fact alone was terrifying to her.

 _Goodbye_. Was this letting go? It didn't feel like it – not that she would even know.

 _Goodbye._ She never got to say that before, not properly – not the way she would have had she known it would be their last time together.

 _Goodbye_. She didn't want it to be… despite everything – all the pain, heartache and even fear – she didn't want it to be.

Every few minutes Elizabeth would get a hold of herself, would calm – be able to breathe again – but those moments never seemed to last long.

 _Do you remember me?_

 _No_.

That single word had felt as though it had stabbed right through her heart. It seemed so inconceivable to her, that he didn't remember, considering how vividly the memories played through her mind. She couldn't _understand_ it, didn't even want to consider it as real. Before, it had been easier to ignore it - to pretend that it simply wasn't real, wasn't happening - but now, after seeing him, after him speaking to her with definite civility, she thought she might lose her mind. Head falling into her hands, she felt her mind spinning and whirling – as though she were endlessly falling – losing track of where she even was.

When the wracking sobs had finally ceased, and her cheeks had finally dried, Elizabeth just sat. Exhaustion pulled at her eyelids but she maintained a steady gaze on the carousel – the usually bright colours appearing dull and monochromatic in the heavy sheen of moonlight. She was emotionally spent, with nothing left to give and nothing left to _feel_. The burn of whisky served to replace emotion as, for once, Elizabeth preferred to feel _something_ rather than an endless flatness.

A figure sat silently beside her.

Slowly, her glazed eyes looked them over. A man; hair so short it looked non-existent, pain in his eyes and a rigidity in his posture. Heavy black boots looked muddied even in the dim light and his eyes, like hers had been, were steadily and unflinchingly watching the motionless carousel.

Saying nothing, she held out her bottle for him. Just as silently as she, he grasped it with rough fingers, took a long pull and handed it back to her. Deciding he seemed safe enough, and not really caring anymore either way, she took the bottle back and settled her gaze apathetically back upon the carousel.

* * *

 **I'm pretty proud of how quickly I got this out! Especially after how late last week was!  
**

 **This chapter was simultaneously really easy and really difficult to write so, as ever, your feedback would be greatly appreciated! I also want to assure you guys that this will _not_ be the last time that these two are together in the run up to Civil War.  
**

 **Shoutout to last chapter's reviewers _QueenCocoChanelle_ and _Jag!_**

 **In response to Jag's question _(Does she have a higher than normal tolerance like the boys?); Yes, Elizabeth does have a higher tolerence to drink, not to the extent that the boys do (she can still get drunk - and is a little), but still higher than it should be. It isn't because of any experimentation though - I promise my answer will make sense at some point!_**

 **Thanks so much for reading! Please drop me a review including any thoughts, theories, questions and whatever else you might have!  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**Six months later.**

"Shit! Shit!" Elizabeth cursed loudly and repeatedly as she rushed to pull on her jeans, almost losing her balance entirely in her haste. Her phone was ringing shrilly from somewhere in the apartment and the noise only served to increase her panic more. Carelessly tossing pillows from the couch she had just awoken upon, Elizabeth finally secured her ringing phone.

"Yeah?" She answered breathlessly, as she continued to hastily search for her belongings about the room.

" _Lizzy,_ _ **where are you**_ _?"_ Grimacing, her eyes darted to the clock sitting askew upon the wall. _"The hearing starts in an hour."_

Squeezing her eyes shut, she nodded to nobody in particular. "Yeah, I know, Stevie. I'll be there in five." She seriously doubted that that was even true, but she didn't want him to panic.

Pulling her boots awkwardly onto her feet, accidentally kicking a crate over in the process, Elizabeth sent a last glance around the room. " _Lizzy, this isn't something you can be late for_." Scratching Frank's yet unnamed dog behind the ear, Elizabeth chewed her lip as she considered whether leaving the dog alone was really the right thing to do. " _Lizzy?!_ "

"Yeah, I'm coming, Steve." Standing straight, she walked from the apartment – leaving the dog to fend for itself for a little while. "I'll meet you at the tower in ten." She didn't wait for his reply, dropping the phone the instant she finished speaking.

After practically running down the stairs and flying from the shoddy apartment building, Elizabeth came face to face with Tony Stark. They had seen surprisingly little of each-other over the last few months, he seemed slightly despondent to her – as though he were purposefully placing himself at a distance from her. She knew exactly what had caused his change in behaviour but she couldn't help but hope he wouldn't stay that way forever.

Eventually, her mind caught up with the sight before her and she quickly spluttered out a confused question; "what the _hell_ are you doing here?" She was honestly confounded, _how did he even know she was here?_

He stepped forward, pushing off from the flashy red car he had arrived in, and pointedly held up his phone. "Tracked you, Liz." Then, glancing at the building behind her with a distinctly unimpressed expression, he continued. "I'm not even gonna ask why you're here, Liz. Hell, I'm not _even_ gonna ask why your face is all bruised again." At his words her hands instantly flew to her face, awkwardly poking at the skin there to find it tender and swollen around her left eye. "But you can bet Captain America will."

Biting her lip she looked away, knowing her face was showing an undeniably guilty expression. "Get in the car, Lizzy." Glancing up she attempted to shoot him a smile, to which he merely nodded flatly before pointedly opening the door for her.

The journey back was near silent and Elizabeth wasn't certain whether she should try to fill it or simply let the awkward silence linger in the air. In the end, after a few unsuccessful attempts at conversation, Elizabeth ignored the heaviness of the silent air and took to glancing at the passing scenery.

Her mind drifted to how Tony might react were he to discover where she had actually been last night, what she had been doing. Even Elizabeth could barely comprehend how she had managed to get so embroiled in the happenings of Frank Castle's life but, somehow, she had.

* * *

 **The Night Before.**

Silent was a difficult thing to be when she was rushing so damn much. The low lights of the long hallway were creating a distinctly eerie feel but Elizabeth successfully kept her cool – being experienced enough to panic only when it became entirely necessary. She managed to sneak past the majority of those she was hoping to avoid, but there were the small few that took notice of her passing figure and launched an attack.

A few developing bruises and shallow cuts later and she was approaching her target – an open, empty doorway. _He's in there_ , her intuition was telling her and, as usual, she chose to trust it. There was a guard posted just outside, gun loosely held in hand as his foot tapped absently. He was yet to notice her, the shadows she was residing in providing almost perfect cover, and she used the extra time afforded to her to think up a way of dealing with him quietly.

Gunshots sounded from within the room then and her head snapped to the still empty doorway. Her attention darted back to the guard as he went to make his way into the room, gun raised and ready to fire. Forgetting any ideas of stealth, Elizabeth stepped from the shadows and, raising a hand, she knocked the gun from him with attacking shadows before rushing forward to kick his ankle viciously. His head heavily impacted the cement floor as he fell but he remained conscious, something Elizabeth couldn't allow. Kicking his head once more, she watched his eyes roll backwards before they slid closed.

A yell sounded from within the room and Elizabeth wasted no time darting inside, pulling up a shield of shadow as a precautionary measure. Her caution served to be unwarranted as most of the enemies in the next room had already been dealt with – unsurprising considering who her ally was. Seeing him free and armed made her question whether she had really even needed to come help him. It seemed she had underestimated him but she couldn't help her overwrought concern.

When it became apparent that the Irishman was not about to answer any of his questions, Elizabeth jumped forward – intent on proving to be useful. "Frank, let me-" Tendrils of smoke were already reaching for the Irishman's skull but the gunshot that mangled the man's face sent them reeling back to her. Looking sharply to Frank, in an almost accusatory manner, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows pointedly. She shuddered to think what would have happened to her had she been rooting around inside that man's mind when he had died, she could guess it would be nothing good.

Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head to her – he clearly didn't trust that she could do it. About to argue, Elizabeth indignantly stepped toward him but held herself back when a commotion sounded from just past the doorway. Before she could even think, he had reacted – sending a warning shot through the doorway, keeping the newcomers at bay for at least a few seconds.

A push sent her careening into the corner and her shoulder heavily impacted the wall as her eyes shot up to what he was doing. She doubted their attackers even knew she was there as Frank drew their fire to the opposite wall. Quickly summoning power, Elizabeth immediately went to cover his retreat with an ethereal shield of shadow. Only a second later, she felt a bullet impact upon this wall of shadow and breathed a sigh of relief knowing that she had saved Frank from at least one more wound.

Unfortunately, the sudden appearance of tangible shadows had alerted the men to her presence. With Frank hidden behind a convenient block of wood, Elizabeth averted her concentration to the men – but not quickly enough. It felt as though the bullet pierced the skin of her arm before she even heard the shot but she knew that that was impossible. The shock of the wound knocked her concentration slightly and by the time she looked back up one of the men had breached the room and was pointing his gun right at her.

Lifting a shadowed shield at the last minute, Elizabeth braced for the sound of the gunshot to reverberate through the room, but it never did.

Instead, a metallic clunking sound reached her ears and she glanced up curiously to find the man crumpled to the floor with a metal baton laying forgotten beside him. Elizabeth didn't notice that she had slid down the wall and become huddled into the corner protectively until the man began to recover.

Using the wall behind her as support, Elizabeth stumbled and struggled to her feet. When a man in an odd red suit stepped into the room and dealt with her attacker, Elizabeth had only managed to take a single step forwards. Stopping in her tracks, Elizabeth tried to figure out how she should react to this newcomer but when Frank put aside his makeshift cover and stood still beside this newest man, she decided to follow his lead.

Suddenly, an explanation sprung to her mind. "This Red?"

Frank merely nodded slowly, his eyes skimming over her bleeding arm for just a second before returning to the man before him. "They gotta pay." _Being this hell-bent on vengeance couldn't be healthy._ Elizabeth couldn't admit it out-loud, she could barely even admit it to herself – for reasons she couldn't understand, but she was insurmountably worried about Frank. "Every single goddamn one of 'em."

There had been a time when she had possessed the same kind of burning and furious desire for revenge, she still did to some extent, but it was only now that she could see the terrible ramifications of such furious focus. "They will," Elizabeth highly doubted that the Devil's idea of revenge would really match up to Frank's, "but not tonight."

He turned to her then, his head angled so that his eyes would be naturally rested upon her left shoulder. Although she couldn't actually see his eyes, as they were covered by his cowl, she cocked her head to the side – regarding him with curiosity. "You alright?"

"Err, yeah?" She told him, voice far away and distracted as she continued to regard him curiously.

He gave a curt nod, head angling from hers as he appeared to be looking behind her. "Move." As he spoke he moved past her and situated himself beside the darkened doorway at the side of the room. Suddenly she was being tugged to the wall and practically shoved behind Frank, his arm held protectively before her.

She could have rolled her eyes at this ridiculous gesture; she was more than capable of looking after herself and besides, he was practically collapsing under the weight of all his injuries. She didn't bother voicing these concerns, knowing Frank well enough to be able to reasonably predict his response by now. He was a strangely protective man, she had found, especially over women. Oddly, it reminded her of the 1940s – as aggravating as it could be, she found that a small part of her sort of liked being protected – even if it was ridiculously unnecessary.

Due to her position securely behind Frank, she heard, rather than saw, the commotion around the corner. Fortunately, it didn't take long for two men to spill into her eye-line. As per usual, Frank stepped forward and dealt with it before she even had a chance to contribute. Elizabeth felt rather useless, stood in the corner watching the two men do all the work.

Eventually, she did find something to do – lunging forward and knocking out a man who was crawling towards his discarded gun and then stepping quickly forward to help the Devil haul Frank to his feet. Quickly calling out to the dog that Frank had adopted and, when she was assured the dog was following obediently behind, the trio began to move slowly from the building.

Hauling Frank around was difficult, he wasn't exactly lightweight, but together they managed to get him at least a few feet outside of the dank building. When they reached a poorly lit grave yard even the Devil seemed to be unable to hold his weight, setting him down with his back propped up on an old gravestone.

Elizabeth hovered close to Frank's slumped figure, finally having the time to look over his beaten features. Trying for subtlety, she covertly twisted her hands – bringing shadows over his cuts and concentrating on slowly encouraging the skin to stitch back together. Unfortunately, white eyes were impossible to mask and her concentration was shaken when a hand strongly gripped her raised wrist. "Liz."

Huffing in aggravation, she rolled her eyes. "Frank-"

"No."

The last time she had utilized power around him had ended in her passing out and cracking her head open as she fell to the ground. The limits to her abilities had been something she had only thought to share after they had become extremely obvious. Ever since then he had been particularly unhappy allowing her to use them, especially when he didn't think it was necessary. He had however, encouraged her to push her boundaries in a safe environment, to build up a sort of stamina – the results had been encouraging to say the least. She certainly felt far more confident and was beginning to recapture some of the abilities she had possessed back at Hydra.

She had an inkling, however, that this wasn't the only reason he was refusing her help. She knew all too well that physical manifestations of pain could feel like a welcome release of emotional pain and grief. Feeling something tangible was always easier than feeling something that you couldn't even see.

"You should go." Glancing up to the man in the mask, she couldn't help but agree completely. She really couldn't afford to get caught out here with Frank, she was in enough trouble as it was. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as the sound of distant sirens reached her ears, Elizabeth sent an uncertain glance to Frank – who was staring off to the side in a decidedly despondent fashion. "Help's coming."

She wasn't certain whether the Devil was trying to comfort her or Frank but she took solace in his words regardless. Nodding, she straightened up slowly and turned to face the Devil. "Thanks… I guess."

He nodded with an almost bemused smirk pulling at his lips. "C'mere boy." She said lightly, attracting the yet unnamed dog's attention. When he reached her, tail wagging almost violently, she reached down and scratched his ear. "Let's go home boy."

"Be careful, Liz."

Eyebrows pulling together, she nodded absently. "You too, Frank."

* * *

"Lizzy, what happened to you?!" His hands were gripping her forearms as though he were worried she was about to collapse.

Waving her hands as if to diffuse the tension of the air she sent him a careless expression. "Stevie, relax – I fell over."

His expression was one that clearly showed how disbelieving he was of that explanation and she couldn't really blame him. With raised eyebrows he continued questioning her, a dubious tone taking over his voice. "Right, and _where_ were you last night?"

Having not had the forethought to think up a lie, Elizabeth openly panicked – but only for a moment. "Dog sitting." Her tone was perhaps a little too enthusiastic to be believable but she was just incredibly pleased she had been able to come up with something so quickly.

Finally relenting his deathly grip on her arms, he took a step back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked so stressed and worn down – and it was all thanks to her. Gritting her teeth against the telling apology that attempted to spring from her lips, Elizabeth stood awkwardly in silence. "You better get ready quick, Lizzy."

She nodded and hurried to comply – racing to the adjacent room. "The lawyer, she put some clothes in there for you to wear."

 _Thank God_ , Elizabeth thought – she possessed no clothes that would be considered appropriate attire for a court hearing. The clothes were simple but professional in style – a black pencil skirt and a cream colored blouse. As she hurriedly dressed herself, a feeling of dread began to settle in the pit of her stomach.

All the commotion and drama that she had been sucked into with Frank had been a successful distraction from this looming date, but now that it was here she couldn't help but wish she was a little more prepared – and not so emotionally scattered.

There were so many disputing emotions within her and she wasn't sure which was dominating. Fear swirled through her mind as she wondered over the questions they would ask, the information she would be forced to share and, most importantly, on the result of the hearing. Worry gnawed at her as she wondered over Frank's condition – she hadn't had a chance to catch the news and she was awfully concerned that his injuries had been more fatal than she had first realized.

Guilt burnt through her veins like acid as she considered all the lies she was near-constantly telling, the secrets she was holding close to her chest; she hadn't even told Steve about her encounter in the park. Every time he brought up that hopeful notion of finding the friend they had once known, a man that knew them, Elizabeth didn't have the heart to darken the hopeful shine in his eyes. She would shoot him fake smiles and nod along, feeling her heart break a little more each time he brought it up. Pain still shot through her with every beat of her heart. Oddly, it felt just as awful as the very first time she had lost him – if brightened somewhat by the continued presence of Steve.

"Lizzy, you ready?" The sound of his voice broke her from her reverie and she realized she had been stood listlessly, staring unseeingly at the door.

Shaking her head slightly, attempting to shift her suddenly burdened thoughts she opened the door. "Sorry." She muttered guiltily.

Instead of looking intensely displeased, as her now neurotic mind had expected, he merely shot her a warm, comforting smile and held out his arms. "C'mere."

Shooting him a small smile, she stepped forward. Hugging Steve always felt completely comforting – he was big, warm and friendly like a life size teddy bear. Even before he had become a supersized version of himself, he had given the best hugs. It seemed he just had a comforting aura surrounding him that made her feel better whenever she hugged him.

"Let's go." He told her softly as he pulled back and settled a reassuring hand upon her shoulder.

"Yeah." She replied, voice rasping quietly as though she were dying.

He entered the elevator before her, making it slightly easier for her to step into the confinement, and hovered close to her as she pushed the button for the ground floor. As the doors slid closed before her she squared her shoulders and allowed a calming, but shaking, breath through her lips.

* * *

"Sarah, _you are_ a goddess." Elizabeth hadn't seen Tony so cheerful and talkative in a long few months – it brought a smile to her lips. "I really don't pay you enough."

Those words brought a small smirk to Sarah's usually stoic features. "Yes you do, Mr Stark."

Steve chuckled then, the arm around her shoulder shifting slightly as he did so. The positive and almost cheerful atmosphere building around her was so unexpectedly welcome that Elizabeth felt as though she could burst into relieved tears at any moment. At least something in her life was going well.

"Could I have a moment with Elizabeth?" She looked up sharply at that, entirely taken aback by Sarah's request. From the corner of her eye she could see Steve shoot her a curious glance before he removed his warm arm from around her shoulder and walked slowly away with Tony.

Raising her eyebrows to Sarah, Elizabeth felt her previous relief escape her and be replaced with dread once more. Thankfully, Sarah seemed well practiced at putting people at ease. A warm light hand lay upon her forearm as Sarah coaxed Elizabeth to sit upon the steps of the building they had just left.

Sarah sat beside her, angling herself so that she was facing Elizabeth completely. Hands clasped in her lap, Sarah allowed her eyes to look over Elizabeth entirely – the gaze wasn't threatening or displeased, instead there was a strange amount of care there. "Are you alright, Elizabeth?"

Expression pinching, as she struggled to understand why Sarah even cared, Elizabeth nodded. Sarah remained unconvinced, it seemed, as she shuffled forwards slightly – a hand reaching out to grasp hers. "Elizabeth, I can see that you're not okay." Wide eyes darted up to catch Sarah's gaze, Elizabeth felt oddly caught out and she wasn't sure why. "I know you've only known me for six months, Elizabeth, but, you can trust me."

"I'm okay, Sarah… really, I am." The soft rasp of her voice was evidence enough that that wasn't quite the truth.

Sarah nodded slowly for a moment, biting her lip in an extremely uncharacteristic gesture before motioning to speak once more. She was interrupted however, by the sudden ring of Elizabeth's phone. Thoughtlessly, Elizabeth pulled out her phone – just thankful for the distraction. Eyebrows pulling together at the sight of an 'unknown number', Elizabeth hit decline and looked back to Sarah.

Grimacing almost, Elizabeth elected to speak before Sarah could. "Sarah, I'm fine – I really am. My life is just… a series of twists and turns but… today was a good day." As Elizabeth spoke she realized that she wasn't even lying; today _had_ been a good day. Then, finally managing a bright smile, Elizabeth continued. "Thanks to you."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Sarah nodded absently while glancing up to the building behind. "Honestly, I think it was more luck than skill today." A subdued expression overtook her features then, as she continued her glance to the building behind. "From what I hear the DA's focusing everything she has on this Punisher case… you've heard of him?"

Mouth falling open for a second, severely hoping that her lucky escape from persecution was not down to Frank's recent capture, Elizabeth nodded belatedly. "Err, yeah… of course."

Thankfully, her hesitation seemed to go unnoticed as Sarah seemed deep in thought. "Well, they finally got him last night… and I've heard that the DA is particularly anxious to get Frank Castle the death penalty. Everything else, including your case, is falling by the wayside apparently."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say, there wasn't much she _could_ say without giving herself away. "The death penalty's a little over the top… isn't it?"

Eyes sliding back to hers, Sarah shrugged. "Not everyone would agree with you." Then, grasping her briefcase and standing, Sarah smiled down at Elizabeth. "I'll give you a minute alone, Elizabeth. Congratulations on your acquittal."

Elizabeth barely processed her words, absently watching her walk away as her mind raced over whether there was anything she could possibly do for Frank. Coming up entirely blank on ways to help him, she felt as though she physically deflated.

"Ah, Elizabeth." She stood up instantly at the sound of _his_ voice. "How lovely to see you." She had hoped the man with slick blonde hair that had visited her at the tower wouldn't be here but, unsurprisingly, her hope had been in vain. She had since learnt his name; Matthew Turner – it sounded perfectly normal and certainly didn't suit him. His twisted smile disturbed her more than it should, but something about his piercing green eyes made her toes curl in irrational fear.

Trying not to let her fear show, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and placed a mask of stoic indifference upon her face. "Well, it seems it'll be the last time you see me." A smirk reminiscent of Natasha quirked at her lips as she spoke.

He hummed then as he took a step closer to her, his eyes scanning from her shoes to her face as though he were sizing her up. "Perhaps." He told her finally, after moving much closer to her than she would have liked.

Elizabeth was trying her best not to shrink backwards at this sudden intrusion of her personal space, but she felt an intense sense of danger whenever he was near her. She jumped in fear when her phone chirped to life once more, but she felt oddly relieved.

Taking a step back, she pulled out her phone – it was an 'unknown number' once more but she pressed accept regardless. Thankful for the interruption, she muttered a quick "I have to take this," and watched him warily. When he didn't move, Elizabeth pulled the phone up to her ear – watching him nervously the entire time. "Hello?" The tone she used was faraway, as she couldn't help but be hyper aware of the relentless stare she was being held by.

" _Lizzy_?" Eyes widening and shooting to the man stood before her in an overtly surprised and anxious reaction, Elizabeth fell silent entirely. " _Lizzy_?" He asked again, voice sounding almost worried now.

"Err, yeah… I'm… I'm here." While Elizabeth already had extremely mixed feelings concerning the fact that Bucky had called her, she knew that the company she was currently in made it extremely dangerous.

"See you around, Elizabeth." Mr Turner had stepped even closer, and spoken with an almost victorious smirk – Elizabeth had the awful sense that he knew something she didn't. Everything else left her mind as a cold fear, that she hadn't felt in years, pumped through her veins.

" _Lizzy_? _Who_ _was_ _that_?" Remembering herself slightly, and tearing her gaze from the retreating figure of Mr Turner, Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Just… some asshole." She told him casually, determined not to drag him into all of her trouble. "It doesn't matter, what's up?" Elizabeth strained to sound as casual as she could, desperately attempting to keep her worry over him to herself.

There was a pause over the line then, and she was about to repeat her question when he finally answered. " _I… I think I need your help_."

Dropping her façade of casual indifference, Elizabeth took a long cautious glance at the people surrounding her. "Okay," she began, trying to be calm and reasonable, "what's happened? What's going on?"

" _I think… they're on my trail…_ "

Eyebrows crunching together, Elizabeth felt herself becoming increasingly concerned over his well-being. "Who's they?"

" _I'm not sure._ "

Biting her lip, she resolved herself and nodded to nobody in particular. "Okay, where are you?"

There was another long pause then. " _Lizzy, you don't have to_ -"

She cut him off straight away. " _Yes_ , I do. Where are you?"

" _Bratislava_."

The way he said it, as though she would know exactly where that was, almost made her laugh. "Right… where is that?"

" _It's the capital of Slovakia, Lizzy_." He sounded as though he'd be wryly rolling his eyes at her –she doubted that he was but his tone caused an image of the familiar action to spring up in her mind regardless.

"Yeah, of course. I knew that." She told him adamantly.

An unexpected chuckle sounded from the line then and she felt slightly amused as well, despite it likely being inappropriate. " _Yeah_ , _of course_."

Letting her smile fall as she thought through the logistics of getting all the way to Slovakia, Elizabeth spotted Steve coming towards her. Ignoring the guilt that instantly flipped through her stomach at the sight of him, Elizabeth tried to wrap up the conversation. "I'll probably be there the day after tomorrow – hopefully sooner."

"Thanks Lizzy." He did sound extremely grateful and relieved at the information that she would be there soon.

"I gotta go." She didn't really want to, but Steve was rapidly approaching now and she certainly couldn't let him know who she was talking to. "Be careful."

She hung up before he could reply, quickly shoving the phone in her pocket – hoping Steve hadn't noticed it – Elizabeth shot a happy smile to Steve.

"Who was that?" He asked, lightly.

Pausing, wondering whether lying was really the right thing to do, Elizabeth glanced up at him. He seemed relieved, as though some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders - he was even throwing her an easy smile. The almost peaceful expression and relaxed set of his shoulders was something she did not want to ruin. "Just a wrong number, Stevie."

* * *

 **Holy Crap, this took me far far too long. Luckily, this chapter is particularly long and I feel like a lot happens in it!**

 **First of all, as usual, a big shout out to my reviewers _Jag_ and _sammycalcon._**

 **As for _Jag_ 's question over who the man was at the end of the last chapter, I hope this chapter makes it clear that that was Frank. **

**I also want to assure you guys that, although I've added Punisher into this story he won't be in it too much - this story is very much about Elizabeth! I wanted to add him and that storyline in just because I thought it would be an interesting way to grow Elizabeth's character by having her interact with Frank.**

 **Lastly, thank you for reading and if you guys have any thoughts, questions, opinions, theories or whatever else, I would love to hear about all of them in a review!**


	16. Chapter 16

As Elizabeth wandered the airport, following the steady flow of the crowd as she searched for the exit, she pondered over how complicated her web of lies had somehow become. After her acquittal, Tony had been unable to wait to host an over the top, lavish celebration and Steve had merely been happy enough to hang out in a relaxed environment for once but, obviously, Elizabeth couldn't stick around.

Having decided to keep her cover story simple, Elizabeth had pulled them aside and told them both she had promised to dog-sit for a few days. Steve hadn't believed her at all, having heard that lie from her before, but she had had the forethought to bring Frank's dog along with her. The sight of an actual dog had seemed to clear a few of the reservations that Steve had had regarding her story. Elizabeth tried to tell herself that she technically wasn't lying, she was looking after Frank's dog for a few days – by paying for him to be put in kennels. She had assured them both that celebrations could be had when she got back, or had finished 'dog-sitting', but she wasn't particularly keen on the whole idea.

Elizabeth found herself outside without having given much thought to where she was actually going and instantly halted, unsure. The air outside was surprisingly cold, her breath forming a white cloud before her as she glanced around with uncertainty. It likely would have been a good idea to figure out, with a little more specificity, where exactly he was.

She had been about to step away from the exit entirely and hail a cab – figuring she may as well find a place to sleep – when her name sounded from somewhere to her left. "Lizzy."

Whipping around, her eyes automatically settled upon Bucky. Her brain seemed to freeze for a moment and she found herself stupidly surprised to see him, despite _literally_ coming here for him. She hadn't expected to feel so… _strange_ at the sight of him. For a moment, she mused that perhaps her sobriety was playing a part in this almost stunned reaction – last time she had seen him she hadn't exactly been in her right mind. She hadn't exactly been amiable either, something she desperately wished to make up for.

Shooting him a smile that quite obviously didn't reach her eyes, she watched his wary eyes survey her. Perhaps he was expecting her to recoil in fear like last time… she couldn't be sure. Breaking the heavy silence that had settled itself firmly between them, Elizabeth cleared her throat and spoke; "you alright?" It wasn't exactly one of the questions that burned brightest in her mind in that moment but her silent repetition of the mantra ' _he_ _doesn't_ _remember'_ served to prevent her from asking too much of him.

His eyes left hers then, finally, and she felt as though she had been freed somewhat. A breath escaped her as she allowed her façade to fall for a mere moment – knowing that he wouldn't see her real expression. "Yeah…" he told her, clearly subdued. "Let's go." The way he said those two words sounded more reminiscent of a question than a request and she couldn't help but feel a little comforted by his apparent lack of certainty.

"Okay." Her voice was hoarse but she ignored it resolutely, her fingers coming to pinch at the skin of her wrist in an attempt to distract herself.

She watched idly as his eyes followed this subtle movement of her hand before flickering, almost questioningly, back to her eyes. Eventually, he moved. "Come on."

He led her to what could only be described as a falling apart, rusted red car. Feeling herself brightening somewhat, merely at the sight of this poor excuse for a car, Elizabeth felt her eyebrows raise in a dubious expression. "This yours?"

As he practically wrenched open the door on his side, causing an almost screeching metallic sound to slice through the air, he shot her an almost amused look. "Not exactly."

Biting back a smile, Elizabeth went to open her own door, but found it to be ridiculously stubborn. "Jeez, couldn't you have stolen a better car?" She tugged so much she was certain her arm might pop out of its socket.

Watching her from over the top of the car, she could see he was fighting back a smirk at her lack of success. "You have to – pull it up first… and then out." He lifted his hands in an attempt to demonstrate and, with a huff, she nodded.

Hair falling over her eyes she tried to do what he had said, pulling the door upwards before pulling outwards. Unfortunately, she never got to try the second part of his instruction as the door handle ripped off in her hand. "Any other ideas?" She asked, holding the handle out for him to see.

The corner of his lips twitched as he glanced at the handle in her hand. "Climb over my side." Dropping the handle on the floor, doubting she would have any use for it, she walked around the car and to his open door.

Climbing into the car, as gracefully as she could manage, Elizabeth placed a hand upon the steering wheel. Pausing for a moment and glancing at her hand upon the wheel, Elizabeth smirked. "Can I drive?" As she asked, she glanced up to where he stood – still holding open the door. His eyebrows pulled together as he thought through why she was even asking. In all honesty, she was simply asking because she hadn't driven in a long time and missed it in a way – there was also a part of her that wondered whether she could drive the rusted car to death, but he didn't need to know that.

"You don't know where we're going." He seemed almost wary as he spoke, as though he thought she was probably up to something. Maybe, somewhere deep down, he did remember. _No he doesn't, don't be stupid._

Ignoring her inner chastising of herself, Elizabeth smirked at him. "I'm sure you can direct me."

Practically rolling his eyes, leaning heavily against the car, he looked down at her with an amused exasperation. "Yeah, _I_ can but _you_ don't even know left from right, Lizzy."

He said it in such a careless way but the expression that overtook his features after the words was anything but careless. Her eyes were scrutinizing him heavily, looking for something she couldn't quite name – maybe it was recognition that she was so eager to find. "How do you know that?" She asked so quietly, so afraid of the answer, that she doubted he could even hear her but it seemed he had been so intent in his focus on her that he had heard regardless of the low volume.

"I…" he hesitated, it was for only a second but, as his eyes reached hers, it was enough to kick her heart into a frenzy. "I think I must have… read about it somewhere." His eyes darted from hers as he answered.

 _Did she believe him_? She wasn't sure – but maybe that was just misplaced hope clouding her judgement. "Right…" That single word seemed to hold all of her uncertainties, insecurities and fears – it was a rather pitiful noise really. Awkwardly looking away from him, finding the mere sight of him a little too much to bear right then, Elizabeth silently shifted over to the passenger side.

Silently, he clambered in beside her but he didn't start the car right away. She could see him watching her from the corner of her eye but she refused to meet his gaze. The car didn't start first time or even the second time he tried and, somehow, the spluttering sound of the failing engine broke some of the tension in the air.

Finding herself laughing, despite herself, Elizabeth shot him a dubious glance. "I better not have to walk." He threw her a mock glare before attempting, once again, to start the car. After a long, drawn out and ear-splitting whine from the car, the engine finally thrummed to life. Settling back in her seat and throwing her feet up on the dash, she smirked. Huffing, she added a tone of boredom to her voice and spoke; "finally."

She could see Bucky shaking his head at her, as though she were being ridiculous – which she was, as he began to drive. "How was your flight?"

Raising her eyebrows at the question, and the ridiculously formal tone of voice he used, she scoffed. "Seriously?"

"What?" He asked with a shrug, eyes remaining fixed on the road.

Finding a strangely genuine and unrestrained smile upon her lips, Elizabeth watched him carefully. "Are you gonna make awkward small talk the entire way?" Honestly, she didn't think she would mind if he did.

She could see him holding back a smirk of his own, pressing his lips together to prevent the expression, but she wasn't sure why he felt the need to. "You'd prefer awkward silence?" As he asked he finally glanced her way, although his eyes never reached her face, and quirked an eyebrow.

Finally looking from him, she glanced from the window at the shining lights of the towering streetlamps as they passed her by. After a moment of silence, Elizabeth rolled her eyes to herself before replying. "My flight was long and boring, thanks for asking." Her tone was dry as she leaned her weary head upon the window.

A question popped into her mind as they passed a thin man stood awkwardly in the middle of the street. Picking her head up from where it had been rested heavily against the window, she regarded him with a sparkle of humor in her eyes. "Have you just been loitering around the airport for two days?"

He did look at her then, eyebrows scrunched together as he considered her question. "No." He answered in a tone that suggested he had absolutely no idea why she would assume that he had.

"Oh," she deflated a little, having found the idea of him standing at the airport for two days straight funnier than she really should have. "How did you know when I'd turn up?"

"I checked the flight times, Lizzy." He said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world and she guessed it was. She wasn't sure why she had assumed he would be clueless about that type of thing; computers and flight times, but she guessed it had something to do with how Steve had been. The first time he had even seen a modern computer he had thought she was joking with him and when she had explained the internet to him he had seemed both confused and concerned at the mere idea of it. Although, considering everything that happened with Hydra she supposed he had been right to be concerned over the idea of the internet.

"Lizzy?" At the sound of his voice she realized she had slipped into a sort of daydream, eyes unseeingly fixated beyond the window.

"Yeah?" She asked, casually glancing to him – her eyes becoming slightly drawn to the hand upon the wheel, the one that shone a menacing silver.

"What happened to your eye?" For a moment she was confused, but only for a moment. Subconsciously, her hand raised to prod at the still bruised skin surrounding her eye.

She waved him off, shrugging carelessly as though it were nothing. "It's nothing – walked into a door." She didn't bother trying to make the lie any more believable this time around, knowing it didn't really matter – that he _didn't_ really care.

"Right," he began dubiously, "what really happened?"

Breathing out a laugh, she shook her head and dropped her feet from the dash. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

It was quiet for a moment, the throaty hum of the engine the only sound passing between them. "Try me."

Raising her eyebrows at him, honestly a little surprised by his insistence, she nodded. "Alright then…" She took a moment to consider how to actually explain everything. "I met a man."

"Right." He asserted, shifting as though he were suddenly uncomfortable.

"A man who purposefully got himself captured by a group of Irish criminals and, when I went to 'rescue' him – or whatever – I _just_ so happened to get punched in the face." After a pause she added, "oh and I got shot too." She didn't know why she added that detail, or why she had even told him the truth – maybe it was because she knew it didn't really matter what he knew.

"Shit, Lizzy." When she glanced to him, surprised, he looked far more concerned than he should be. "Are you okay?"

"That's not even the worst part." She told him, almost teasingly – knowing that her story was affecting him somehow, even though it shouldn't be.

Huffing, in what seemed to be frustration or maybe exasperation, he ran his free hand through his hair. She noted briefly that he used to do that whenever he was stressed – maybe that had remained the same at least. "Enlighten me."

"Let's just say… he didn't exactly need my help – or want it, for that matter."

"Why not?"

"He's… a little overprotective…" She smirked then, "he's even worse than Steve."

When he didn't say anything in reply, she looked over to him. He was staring out the windscreen, which she supposed was a good thing considering that he was driving, but his expression seemed conflicted almost. "Are you…"

When he trailed off her eyebrows pinched together, she leaned forward in an attempt to enter his line of sight slightly and pushed him to complete that question. "Am I what?"

Pointedly avoiding her gaze, he frowned before shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

She desperately wanted to push him further, she almost did even, but she stopped herself from doing so. She knew she was reading too much into every little thing he did, every movement he made, every word he spoke and she _had_ to stop – it wasn't healthy and it certainly wouldn't make any of this easier.

When the car eased to stop, the brakes squeaking as it did so, Elizabeth glanced up from where she had been idly staring at her hands. They looked to be parked in an alleyway somewhere, an overturned trashcan sat before the car and, behind them, there were the occasional lights of passing cars.

The silence in the air was punctuated heavily when he opened the door, the screeching of metal feeling as though it deafened her. Following his lead, Elizabeth shifted over to the driver's side intent on clambering from the car but she stopped short when he held out a hand for her to take. He was only offering to help her from the car, a friendly gesture if nothing else, but she hesitated all the same. Finally, she placed her hand in his and used him as leverage to pull herself from the car.

From the moment her skin touched his she felt flustered, which was utterly ridiculous, and the moment she exited the car she quickly yanked her hand free. Resolutely, she didn't glance up to meet his eyes – it was difficult however, when she could feel his eyes burning through her almost. He was so close to her, too close, and he didn't seem too intent on moving away.

Feeling herself tense up, and choosing to blame it on fear despite knowing full well that fear had nothing to do with it, Elizabeth awkwardly glanced around – a tight smile placed upon her face. "We gonna go inside or?"

She looked up at him then which turned out to be a huge mistake considering the way his eyes were burning into hers. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she could do nothing but stare up at him – one of her hands keeping herself balanced on the car behind her. When he finally looked away, she felt as though she could breathe again – the hand that was now almost violently gripping the car finally relented and Elizabeth stepped purposefully away. Begrudgingly, she began to think that coming here hadn't been the best of ideas – it was already proving to be far more… _difficult_ than she had first envisaged.

"Let's go." With his words she realized how utterly unfair everything really was. Here she was, moments away from falling apart over him – yet again, and he was both completely unaffected and unaware.

Nodding, eyes looking anywhere but to him, she breathed out a single throaty word. "Yeah."

She watched his feet as he led her to their destination, too afraid that she may catch his eyes once more and be unable to prevent herself from a mental breakdown. For a moment she considered how badly she wanted a drink, something to reduce the intensity of her emotions. However, when her mind reminded her of the last time she had been drunk – and of how awful she had been to him, she pushed the craving away.

He led her up what felt like endless flights of stairs before they reached a door, with flakes of paint slowly peeling from the wood. When the door opened a rather bleak room was revealed, the furniture was sparse and there looked to be a large section of damp upon one of the far walls. Stepping inside regardless of all this, however, Elizabeth ran her fingertips upon the closest wall.

"Nice place." She mused rather sarcastically. She heard a laugh from behind her but, as much as she wanted to glance back, she didn't dare look. Instead, Elizabeth moved towards the little kitchenette area and jumped up to sit upon the cracked countertop. "So," she began, hands flat and resting against her thighs, "what's going on?"

It took him a while to explain, mostly because most of his concerns were assumptions or simply based on instinct. He expressed that he felt a little bad about dragging her all the way here based on gut instinct, but she could understand – most of her good decisions had been based on that same instinct. It seemed his fears were based mainly on having seen the same people far too many times in random places – people following him, even if it was from a distance.

When he stopped speaking, Elizabeth sat silently as her fingers picked at the skin of her wrist. He was certainly right, something wasn't adding up, and it had her worried. Her suspicion was that this unidentified group were 'casing' him in a way. Elizabeth could guess he wouldn't be an easy man to capture and thus they were trying to figure out a way of doing it easily – or perhaps he _was_ just being overly suspicious.

"What did they look like?" She asked, finally, after considering his words carefully for a moment.

In response to her question he reached into a pocket and pulled out a rather cracked looking phone. "I got a picture." Taking the phone from his outstretched hand, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the sight of it and quickly jumped to an assumption.

"And who did you steal this from?"

Shrugging, he leaned against the wall and looked from the window beside him, but she could see a shake in his shoulders as he gave a silent laugh to her question. "Let's just say… he can afford another one."

Smirking and giving a minuscule shake of her head, she glanced down to the photo lighting up the screen. The moment she took in the face of the man in the photo the slight upturn of her lips fell into a deep frown. " _Holy_ shit."

From the corner of her eye she saw him push off of the wall and step towards her. "Who is it?"

She opened her mouth to reply but her voice didn't sound as she stared down at the phone. Her eyebrows were pinching together and she let out another breathy curse word. "Fuck."

"Lizzy, who is it?" He pulled the phone from her grip when she ignored his questioning and she could do nothing to stop him, her limbs frozen in place by a mixture of fear and shock. The panic within her head must have been shining brightly in her eyes as a comforting hand was laid upon her shoulder, alongside the sound of a quietened voice. "Lizzy, relax. You're safe, alright?" As he spoke he lightly shook her, attempting to break her out of her own thoughts.

Slowly, she managed to glance up at him and, even more slowly, she managed to accept his words. Questions still whirled through her mind, however, as the man in the picture haunted her thoughts. "When… when did you…"

Despite her inability to fully ask the question he seemed to understand, a steadying hand still laid upon her shoulder as he watched her carefully. "That was about a week ago." His voice was steady and she could at least find solace in his apparent stability.

Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut and vehemently shook her head. "That's… no that's not…" Her voice had devolved into nothing more than a husky whisper. Memories were beginning to fly through her mind as she wondered what the sudden appearance of a man from her past could mean – _who else could still be out there_? The almost endless possibilities that answered that simple question pushed her to the brink of a panic attack – her breaths becoming labored as her chest felt oddly constricted.

"Lizzy," his voice was quiet but strong – almost commanding her attention, "Lizzy, breathe." Distantly, she could feel a hand upon her face but the feel of his skin wasn't enough to fully break her from her quickly spiraling thoughts. If he was beginning to panic over her reaction he was doing an excellent job at hiding it – he looked stable and strong. Slowly, almost painfully, she tried to emulate some of his steadfastness.

Noticing the beginnings of her slight positive response, he chanced speaking once more. "Lizzy, I can't help you if you don't tell me who it is." Gripping his wrist, unsure as to when she had even begun doing so, she nodded just slightly before closing her eyes and breathing slow. _God, she was supposed to be helping **him** , not the other way around._

The process of calming down completely was a slow one, but it seemed aided somewhat by his presence. A part of her knew that relying on him this much was neither fair nor healthy but, in the midst of panic, she couldn't bring herself to care – especially considering that her usual alternative would be a stiff drink.

Still with her eyes closed, she answered him. "I thought I was the one helping you?"

A heavy breath escaped him then and she opened her eyes to find his relief, barely hidden. He didn't bother with a reply but his shoulders dropped as he relaxed slightly. His hand was still upon the skin of her face – his fingertips brushing against her hair - and, now that panic had subsided, Elizabeth felt suddenly flustered. The sudden heat she felt in her face was embarrassing enough but the fact that he would be able to feel it made the whole situation worse. "You can let go of me now you know?" She tried for an lightness to her tone that she didn't completely manage.

And then, he did one of the last things she would have expected. He shot her a painfully familiar smirk, one filled with subtle suggestion, raised his eyebrows and replied smoothly. "You first."

Confused and barely able to think clearly, Elizabeth glanced down to her hands. One was still almost violently clutching his wrist while the other was grasping at his coat, holding him closer to her. Panicked for an entirely different reason now, she swiftly let him go, her eyes darting anywhere but his. Almost leisurely, he took a step back.

Elizabeth had the distinct impression that he knew exactly what he was doing, the question, really, was why? If it was his attempt to distract her then he had definitely succeeded but she felt conflicted nonetheless. It felt as though she were stuck between running away from him and throwing herself at him and she could do neither – leaving her head a mess of emotion.

Running a hand through her hair, allowing some to fall before her face in an effort to shield herself, she attempted to refocus her mind on the real issue at hand. "The- the guy in that photo, I don't know his name… but he used to work for Hydra." Staring down at her hands Elizabeth remained falsely stoic. "I met him… later… but he should be at least fifty now… probably older."

She looked up at him then, he seemed preoccupied all of a sudden and she could understand why. The man in the photograph looked no older than thirty – he had barely seemed to have changed since the last time she had encountered him. "He's an asshole," she added, "I didn't know him for long but, _trust_ _me_ , he's an asshole." She didn't bother going into the specifics of how she had come to that conclusion – that was a conversation for another time and another person – and luckily he didn't ask for clarification. Taking a breath, finally feeling able to think logically again, Elizabeth set about asking for details. "How many are there?"

"Ten – twelve? Maybe more." Chewing on her lip absently, she nodded. An idea was beginning to form in her mind, something she wasn't sure she could do but was determined to at least try. Twisting her hands together she stood from her seated position upon the counter.

"Okay, I have an idea."

* * *

He could hear the bed creak as she shifted and his eyes automatically moved to the ajar door, behind which she resided. Briefly, he wondered whether she was even asleep but he couldn't tell from where he sat, regardless of his curiosity.

Sitting back, feeling a loose spring from the sofa poking awkwardly into his back, he let out a sigh. While Bucky had insisted she take the bed, he didn't have any interest in sleeping on the sofa either. Not only because, as she had pointed out, he was far too big for it but because there were too many things racing through his head. He hadn't anticipated that seeing her again would cause such a reaction in him and he was now beginning to wonder whether he should have even asked her to come.

Truthfully, he probably could have dealt with this on his own but he had seen it as an opportunity to see at least one of the people he could remember. It was a selfish desire really, he knew, he was putting her in danger – even more than he had first realized considering her reaction to a mere image. A part of him was considering telling her to leave, but he knew he wouldn't do it. First of all he knew Elizabeth would never agree to just leave, especially now she knew that there was a danger here, but he also wanted her to stay _just_ so he could be around her.

Since he had last encountered her, he had remembered so much more and _god he didn't know what he was doing._

Leaning forward, he sullenly dropped his head into his hands – elbows resting on his knees. Slowly, he began thinking through what had happened today, hoping to clear his mind and praying that it wouldn't be so full when he was around her tomorrow.

She hadn't seemed so afraid this time, something which pleased him greatly, but he supposed her sobriety would make it easier for her to hide such a reaction. Resolutely, he ignored that as a possibility – he didn't want to accept that she may still be fearful of him. She _had_ been openly afraid, however, when she had seen that picture.

He couldn't remember her reacting so intensely to anything other than her father's death – but that had been something he could at least understand and had felt equipped to deal with. Her reaction settled within him a feeling that he was so very far away from her now – a distance that simply couldn't be bridged. He had done the only thing he could think of, the only thing he could ever remember doing to stem her panic, but he wasn't sure how well he had hidden his own alarm. The same question had repeated over and over in his mind; _what_ _had_ _happened_ _to_ _her_?

Everything had seemed to get a thousand times worse, if only in a different way, when she finally seemed to relax. Without the worry of her possibly hyperventilating, he had suddenly seemed to realize just the position he had gotten himself in. The fact that she had seemed so suddenly flustered by his proximity had pleased him far more than it really should have and he almost had absolutely no control over his reaction.

Sitting back and slouching in what felt akin to exhaustion, he felt stress settling heavily upon his shoulders. His mind wandered over the near endless possibilities of what could happen tomorrow – to say that he was skeptical of her plan would be an understatement, but he wasn't exactly in a position where he could question the things she believed she could do.

Sleep overcame him slowly, leaving him sprawled in an awkward position that would likely cause his neck to ache the next day but, as his thoughts slipped silently away, he couldn't bring himself to care.

* * *

 **Wow, long time no update! I apologize - I feel awful! I had so much other stuff I had to get done and I wanted to make sure that this was just right! Hopefully the next chapter will be out a little sooner.**

 **Anyway, as always, thanks to everyone who favourited/followed after last chapter and yet another shoutout to _Jag_ for being an awesome, loyal reviewer. **

**And, as always, if you guys have any thoughts, theories, ideas, questions or whatever about this story I would loveee to get a review! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, until next time!**


	17. Chapter 17

"Are you sure about this, Lizzy?"

He watched as she rolled her eyes dramatically. "Of course I'm sure, Bucky," as she spoke her fingers were running deftly through her hair in an attempt to untangle it. "Besides, Frank says I should push my limits a little."

Feeling his eyebrows raise, he quickly asked; "Frank?"

She didn't glance up to him as she replied, almost carelessly. "Yeah, the guy I told you about yesterday."

He had forgotten about that, or at least he had tried to push it from his mind a little – not wanting to think about how she had smiled _just_ _slightly_ as she talked about him.

Fighting the urge to ask for a little more information about the guy, he settled for a single word reply. "Right…"

She sent him a questioning look then and he hoped she had interpreted his tight tone as dubiousness. "Would you just relax," her tone was exasperated but she shot him an easy smile, "I got this."

Squaring his shoulders, for no reason at all, he gave her a nod. As she peeked her head around the corner he heard her hum quietly, considering what to do next, but she cut herself off when she asked a quiet question. "Can you point him out again?"

Stepping forward and coming to stand close behind her, he glanced over her and towards the busy square before them. He noticed how she subtly stiffened at his proximity and felt guilt pang through him slightly. Quickly, he spotted their target and stepped back. "Coffee shop, straight ahead."

She stayed with her head peering around the corner for a while longer before she responded dubiously. "You sure? I don't recognize him." When she turned back to face him he noticed that her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as she glanced up unsurely.

Trying a little too hard to keep his eyes off of her, he glanced over her again – acting as though he were merely searching for their target one last time. "I'm sure."

"Okay then." She told him, resolutely, before reaching up and stealing the cap from his head.

He watched silently as she fixed it upon her own head, her hair appearing to fight against the garment, but when she turned to walk across the square he quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "What are you doing?" The panic was evident in his voice but he couldn't stop thinking about how disastrous it would be if his pursuers realized that she was here with him.

Eyebrows pulling together, she looked up at him with a smirk. "Well I can't exactly dig through his mind in the middle of the square, can I?" He hadn't thought about that. "I gotta get him to come over here."

Not letting go of her arm just yet, not exactly thrilled with the idea of her walking out into the square on her own but not sure how to remedy the situation. "I'll go instead."

Raising her eyebrows, she quickly shook her head – dismissing the idea entirely. "If you go out there he'll let all his little friends know that he's spotted you and then we'll really be screwed."

He didn't answer right away, looking instead to the square once more. "And how are you gonna get him over here?"

She smirked at that, mischief dancing in her eyes, "you'll see." Gently, she pulled her arm free and shot him a reassuring smile before disappearing around the corner. A moment's hesitation later and he was peering around the corner, eyes fixed upon her retreating figure.

With each step she took his anxiety seemed to double, triple even, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop her. As she neared the man beside the coffee shop, her shoulders hunched over just slightly as her hands came to clasp together before her. Seeing her wringing hands, even from afar, he sensed discomfort, or at least some level of it. But, when she glanced over her shoulder and shot him a warning glare – telling him to move out of sight – he figured out what she was doing.

Complying, still not entirely sure how she planned to entice the man into an empty alleyway, he waited impatiently – unconsciously counting the seconds. He heard her approach before he saw her, her voice sounding convincingly hysterical and terrified. "He went down there! I swear… it was- oh god it was awful!"

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Just stay behind me." Bucky sincerely doubted that Lizzy appreciated the condescending tone with which the man spoke to her.

The man she had successfully directed into the shadowed alley seemed completely oblivious to his presence, so intent was his focus down the alleyway, that it almost made him laugh. Lizzy shot him a smirk before turning her attention back to the man who was still tensely travelling down the alleyway.

"Hey, sweetheart." The inflection she placed on the word 'sweetheart' was nothing less than sarcastic and he felt his lips twitching despite himself.

When he turned back and spotted them both, his eyes widened in an obvious fear. Elizabeth was the first to react, pouncing forward and disarming him as though it were the simplest thing in the world. Kicking him in the gut and shoving his slumping figure against the wall, her eyes darted around before she addressed him. "Can you… keep him from yelling while I do this?" He nodded, but as her eyes went white the entirety of his attention remained set on her. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as her eyebrows pinched together, concentration taking over her features.

When the man beside him yelped, a little too loudly, he tore his eyes from her and attempted to pay attention to what she had asked him to do. As it turned out, the man didn't seem capable of yelling – his voice had retreated to nothing more than a broken whisper. "What- what's… happening?"

He didn't reply, merely watched as the man before him brought his hands up to his head and tugged almost maniacally at his hair. "She's… she's in my head." He found himself surprised, completely awed that she could actually do it. He remembered when the most she could do was move objects a few feet and now… she was reading minds? It seemed impossible but he couldn't argue with what he was seeing.

So wrapped up in his own head, he was, that he barely noticed the man's eyes roll into the back of his head as he began to slump to the floor. Looking instantly to Elizabeth, more concerned about her than anything else, he noticed the same happening to her. Catching her just in time, a little aggravated with the slow speed of his own reaction, he found her skin had been marred with blood. Confused, and more than a little concerned, he looked to her eyes finding them half open and dazed.

Blinking rapidly, as though trying to clear her vision, she tried to sit up – clutching his coat thoughtlessly as she did so. "Woah," she breathed quietly, still looking dazed but with a smile springing to her lips. "I did it." When she looked to him, with that smile, he felt his concern bubble away just slightly. It returned in force, however, when she groaned in pain and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Lizzy?" The skin of her face seemed to have lost all color as she took a deep shaking breath.

"I'm fine." She told him, waving him off with a raised hand. "We gotta go, he's probably gonna wake up soon."

Frustrated with this reply, seeing as she definitely _wasn't_ fine, he begrudgingly nodded and decided that now wasn't the time to disagree with her. "Can you walk?"

Hesitating, she glanced up at him – embarrassment beginning to paint her cheeks. "Let's find out." Trying not to let his concern be too evident in his eyes as he looked her over, he nodded. Lightly taking a hold of her arms he helped her stand, albeit shakily.

Considering the expression she held, merely standing was more than a chore. "Lizzy, just let me-"

"No." Her tone was forceful and definite, the idea of being closer to him than she had to be was clearly abhorrent to her. "I… I'm fine." Almost automatically, his eyebrows rose in dubious response. She took a small, measured step forwards before looking back to him with a forced smile. "See?"

He walked close beside her, whether she liked it or not, as they made their way back to his place – intent on catching her should the need arise. They had barely even made it halfway before her, now almost rasping, voice sounded beside him. "Bucky?"

His eyes, which had never strayed far from her, darted quickly to her face. She had stopped walking suddenly, the heels of her hands rubbing tiredly at her eyes as she swayed just slightly on the spot. "Lizzy?" His voice was almost timid as he approached her, arms held out just slightly ready to steady her – he was almost worried she would tell him that she wanted him to move further away from her.

"Can you just…." She trailed off as tiredness pulled at her voice and her hands dropped to reveal half-lidded eyes. "Can you…" She tried again but still failed to finish her request. Considering the exhaustion clearly pulling at her, however, he knew what she wanted.

As he stepped to her she practically fell into him, making lifting her a little more difficult but she still felt much lighter than she used to. Although, he guessed he _was_ a lot stronger than he used to be. She was still awake, just barely, he could tell from the flutter of her eyelashes. "Are you… okay?" The answer seemed obvious, but he couldn't stop himself for asking.

Squirming slightly in his arms, resting her head upon his chest, she nodded. "Need… sleep," was all that she managed and he could tell that sleep overtook her soon after she spoke. The walk was short but he couldn't say that he paid much attention to his surroundings – he barely even noticed where he was going. Somehow, he managed to get them back with little issue – the hardest part was trying to open the door without dropping her.

Now, with her sleeping on his bed, he wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't even sure whether there was anything he could do except wait and hope she would wake up soon. It was two hours, maybe more, before she had even shifted position. She moved mere inches but her eyes didn't even flicker open and his nerves were beginning to kick into overdrive. Maybe this wasn't normal? He couldn't be sure but he never remembered anything like this happening to her before. Surely she would have let him know if this was a normal side-effect of using her power. _What if something was really wrong with her and he was just sitting by and not doing anything to help her?_

If anyone would know what to do he was sure it would be Steve, but he couldn't exactly call him and ask. He doubted Lizzy had even told him where she was and the idea of pulling Steve into this mess, alongside Lizzy, didn't appeal to him. He shouldn't have even called _her_ , he had known it was a mistake, but he hadn't been able to help himself and now here she was; unconscious.

Frustration driving him, he tugged his hands through his hair and sat on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on her – waiting for something to change, anything. Nothing did for a long while, she remained unconscious and barely moving for so long he felt the need to constantly check her pulse.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, wallowing in panic, before she shifted once more and opened her eyes. "Bucky?"

* * *

Her head was still aching and her vision was more than a little hazy but she was awake and aimed to stay that way. "What…what time is it?" From what she could see it was beginning to get dark but other than that she had no concept of how long she had been asleep. When he didn't reply she looked him over with raised eyebrows – he looked a little frazzled, stressed out. "Are you okay?" She asked, sitting up awkwardly.

"You're…" he trailed off oddly, "okay?"

"Er, yeah..." Tilting her head to the side as she regarded him, she smiled for no reason at all.

Confusion was apparent on his features and he quickly stood, pacing slightly. "You _collapsed_ , Lizzy." His tone suggested that the entire situation was far more serious than it really was.

Unable to hide her chuckle at his dramatics, she sat forward before replying. "Yeah, that's actually pretty normal for me…"

"Oh…" All of a sudden, he looked simultaneously uncomfortable and unsure – maybe even nervous. Deciding to spare him, from what she wasn't sure, she heaved herself from the bed and made her way past him and to the kitchen. Looking out of the largest, shoddy, window, she stood silently for a few moments. She heard his footsteps as he followed her into the room but he said nothing – she wasn't surprised by his silence. Even she was struggling to fill it – knowing exactly what she _wanted_ to say but with no idea of what she _should_ actually say.

Finally, she remembered her previous question. "What time is it?" As she repeated the question she turned to regard him and, to her surprise, found him stood a few feet behind her – arms crossed as he watched her. His unwavering gaze was a little disconcerting and she wasn't sure how to react but, luckily, he seemed to snap himself out of whatever trance he was in. Glancing to the left for just a moment before looking back her way, his eyes never quite reaching her figure, he replied.

"Twenty past eight."

Nodding, she looked back through the window – there wasn't much to look at out there but it was far easier than looking at him. "Lizzy?" Eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, she braced herself for having to actually talk to him.

"Yeah?" She asked with a fake lightness to her tone as she turned her head.

He didn't reply right away and Elizabeth had the distinct impression that he hadn't thought of what he would say next. Noticing her raised eyebrows and expectant eyes he seemed to fumble for something to say. "How... do you feel?"

Shrugging, Elizabeth didn't give her answer much thought. "Fine." Looking a little disappointed with that answer, likely because it was so dismissive, he looked away. Exasperated, but feeling a little guilty given his expression, Elizabeth heaved a sigh and returned his question. "You?"

Eyes darting back to hers, he smirked. "Fine," he told her with an exaggerated shrug. Rolling her eyes, she ruefully smiled back – wondering how they could so easily go from an awkward silence to a comfortable exchange. "What happened back there, Lizzy?"

Unable to believe that she hadn't yet thought to debrief him on what she had discovered inside that man's head, she quickly turned to face him. "Well, it doesn't look like your fanclub is gonna be much of a problem," she told him with a smirk.

Raising his eyebrows, clearly taken aback by that information, he replied. "No?"

Shaking her head she went on to explain. "I got a look at where they're all staying and the people he's with. There's only three other guys and one of them's a science guy so he won't be any trouble. If we hit them at the right time tonight we can get the jump on them." Thinking of her next words, her nails began pinching at her wrist. "The thing is... I don't know how you wanna _deal_ with them." Stressing the word 'deal' she hoped he would catch her meaning.

He understood, she could tell, but he asked regardless. " _Deal_ with them?"

Looking at her feet, she attempted a casual shrug. "Yeah, I mean... if you don't want to... you know..." she wasn't exactly sure why she couldn't get the words 'kill them' out – she had never struggled with this kind of talk before. Deciding that she didn't have to spell it out for him to understand, she moved on, "then, we'll have to think of something else."

His eyes bore into hers and she couldn't help but shrink away. "What would you do?" He asked, finally.

"I don't know," she answered, somewhat honestly, "I'm not you."

As his eyes darted away she felt herself release a breath. "Okay," he began, stress painting his tone, "what _else_ can we do?"

If she were being honest, she wasn't particularly fond of the second option but she didn't want to push him into killing anyone. Feigning at least a little confidence she casually answered, "I have something... similar to what I did earlier..." She trailed off then, unsure whether to go into the caveats of this plan.

"But?" He had clearly sensed a pitfall in her plan.

Huffing, the decision to share this detail having been made for her, she replied. "But, it's a little more complicated... it's harder to do. I'm not sure if I can." Heaving a sigh, he looked away from her then and, as she watched the tension settle on his shoulders, she felt guilt eat at her. "I _can_ do it," she reassured, barely believing her own lie.

The scrutiny with which he watched her made it clear that he wasn't certain whether to believe her either. "You're sure?" She wasn't sure if he noticed it, but he sounded slightly hopeful to her – he didn't want to have kill anyone else it seemed.

Flashing a fake smile, she nodded resolutely. "Definitely," she reassured brightly.

Thankfully, he didn't ask her anything else about her 'wonderful' plan.

Biting her lip, she looked awkwardly away. "Look, I... er... I've been meaning to apologize." Her words came out in what seemed to be a frantic jumble as she awkwardly stumbled through them.

"For what?" Elizabeth commended his ability to appear as though she had nothing to apologize for.

Shifting on her feet she took a breath before explaining. "Well, you know, back home – in the park-" He nodded then, indicating that she should continue. "Well, I was..." She figured that by now he would understand but he seemed lost, confused almost, as he watched her. "...kind of a bitch." She finished oddly.

He didn't say anything right away, instead heaving a sigh and running a hand through his hair. "Lizzy-" he began, glancing off to the side somewhere.

Recognizing that tone, especially from him, she cut him off. "No, don't," she held up her hands as he glanced her way, "don't make excuses for me." After a pause, she added with a sad smile, "trust me, I'm not worth it."

His mouth opened automatically, clearly about to say whatever had sprung to mind, but at the last minute he seemed to think better. Looking frustrated, more than anything else, he nodded with averted eyes.

Relaxing a little, feeling as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders, Elizabeth let an easy smile show. Feeling tired and still a little drained, she casually slumped heavily onto the ratty sofa before her but, with the sound of splintering wood, the seat gave way below her. She let out a yell of confusion and surprise as she went clattering to the floor, the frame of the sofa bruising her back as she landed heavily against it.

Finding herself practically on the floor, her legs still slung over the side of the sofa, Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh raucously. Her back ached from the awkward fall but she barely payed it any mind as he came into view – looking down and laughing at her.

Managing to stem her own laughter, she held out her hands hoping he would at least help her up. When he merely stood there, looking more than amused, with crossed arms she pouted. "Little help?"

Quirking an eyebrow at her, he stepped forward and grasped her hand. "First, you break my car," he told her as he tugged her slightly before letting her fall back again – a smirk lightening his expression.

"Hey!" She complained despite being unable to hide her smile.

Finally, he tugged her fully to her feet, "and now you break my couch."

Rolling her eyes, she stumbled forwards slightly and was quickly steadied by his hands upon her arms. "Well," she began, raising her eyebrows, "maybe you should invest in some better stuff? Door handles don't tend to _just_ come off, you know?"

She heard a breathy laugh from him and saw the upturn of his lips as his eyes flickered between the two of hers. His grip on her arms had softened somewhat but she felt more aware of his touch than she had been before. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to step away, but found her body unresponsive to her own commands. Her memory was haunting her with the feel of a tighter grip and she found herself frozen – stuck almost.

She wasn't sure what she expected to happen next, but she couldn't say she was entirely surprised by what did. Thankfully, the feel of his lips upon hers flung her back into the present and, while her fear dissipated like smoke, something else took its place. Falling back into old rhythms more easily than she really should, Elizabeth kissed him back. For once all thoughts had subsided, nothing was worrying her and everything felt perfectly fine – almost as though she had reverted back to the carefree state of mind she had held back in the 1920's. Later, she would probably curse herself for letting this happen and for enjoying it so damn much. Forcing the numerous reasons why this was a terrible idea from her mind, Elizabeth let herself get completely swept away one last time. What she was doing, she wasn't sure but she couldn't even _guess_ at what he was doing – or why.

As thoughts began to return to her, begrudgingly, she realized that she should really stop this before it went too far but she chose to ignore those rational thoughts – deciding to indulge despite the consequences.

But nothing good ever seemed to last long in her life.

His hands moved from her arms and, while one laced in her hair, his left arm wound around her waist. The sudden flash of cold against her back sent memories of cold metal supporting her back slicing through any peace she had managed to find and she went completely stiff once more – no longer reciprocating his kiss.

Unsurprisingly, he noticed. Pulling back, his eyes bore into hers – concern shining within them. "Lizzy?" His voice brought her back to reality once more.

As she stared at him she became furious.

Furious with him for kissing her like that when he didn't even know her anymore, furious with the memories – both good and bad - that had been sent careening through her head and furious with the painful tug at her heart as it broke in two once more.

Trying to stem at least some of her anger, knowing she would regret completely blowing up at him, she pushed him violently away from her. The gap she had managed to put between them didn't seem far enough and she could feel angry tears stinging at her eyes. "You shouldn't have done that." Her voice was low and may have appeared calm were it not for the anger causing her voice to tremble darkly.

"Lizzy, I-"

Holding up a hand, to silence him, she noticed the shadows beginning to emanate from her figure. From the corner of her eye she saw him take a step back. "Don't." She cut him off, breathing deep in an attempt to reel her power back in. It wasn't his fault, she knew that, but she felt so angry with him regardless. "I don't wanna hear it." He opened his mouth to speak once more, but she cut him off before his voice could sound once more. "I don't care. Whatever you're about to say, I _don't_ care."

It was silent for a long, drawn out moment then and she could practically sense his tentative but determined demeanor. He took a step forward and she felt her eyes flash white. "Please," was the only word she could manage and thankfully, he stepped back.

It took her a long while to calm completely, to rein her powers in, and through it all he stood stoically off to the side. Feeling tired beyond measure, but still too riled to sleep, she turned away from him. "You should get some sleep, you look tired." The tone of her voice was distant, faraway, and she was glad.

"What about-"

"I'll wake you up when we need to go," she told him, not letting him finish.

* * *

 **So I don't even know how long it's been but I wholeheartedly apologize for the delay! Life has been throwing me some major curve-balls at the minute but I was determined to get this chapter out! I'm not entirely happy with it but I might come back and tweak it a little at a later date!**

 **Really quick shoutout to everyone who favorited and followed after last chapter and big shoutout to my two reviewers _Jag_ and _liltinglover_! **

**Please drop me a review and let me know what you think! It would mean so much to me and would definitely make me smile! Thanks for reading, hopefully the next chapter won't take so long!**


	18. Chapter 18

This wasn't what he had wanted to happen. In truth, he wasn't even sure what he had been trying to actually achieve in bringing her here. Whilst she had been incredibly helpful, he wouldn't have been able to deal with this problem half as quickly without her, he hadn't _really_ needed her help. He just hadn't been able to stop himself from calling and thus, without really thinking, he had dragged her into a dangerous situation. And then, as though he weren't feeling guilty enough, he just hadn't been able to stop himself from kissing her. He had _known_ it was wrong, that he categorically should not do it, but at that point he hadn't really cared.

He couldn't recall another time he had seen her so _furious_ , especially not with him. When he had told her, all those years ago, that he was leaving to fight in the war she had been angry, but her anger back then had been softened with sadness, affection, concern. This had been something entirely different. Power had been practically radiating from her slight figure – it was a sensation that he couldn't quite put into words; the shadowed tendrils had stayed by her side but the room had felt as though it were pulsing and alive with some invisible force. Her reaction had left him with so many questions that he knew would always remain unanswered.

Whilst he accepted that she had every right to be mad at him – kissing her like that when she was still under the impression that he had no memory of her was more than unfair – but she _had_ kissed him back, at least to begin with. He knew it could have simply been a delayed reaction, he assumed she was a little surprised by his boldness to begin with, but the way she seemed to suddenly stiffen in his arms, it almost seemed as though she had been afraid.

As much as he had desperately tried to push the thought away, dismiss it as ridiculous, he seemed to keep returning to the same conclusion; _she_ _was_ _afraid_ _of_ _him_. The thought had been hanging around his mind for months and he had always found a way to ignore it, but now... now it was the only thought that would pass his mind. Half of him was desperately confused, it didn't seem possible that she could be afraid of him – he could remember a time when he was the one thing that made her feel safest. She used to walk closer to him late at night, slip her hand into his when she was nervous, wake him up after a nightmare... _how could things change so much?_ But he already knew the answer to that question, he just didn't want to acknowledge it.

After what he had done to her, how he had attacked her, he couldn't blame her for her fear. He had seen her on the television after everything, the purple-green bruises clashing horribly with the light skin of her neck, and the image seemed seared into his brain at this point. It made him feel sick, that he had done that to her – to both of them really.

Frustrated, he turned over in bed. He had no intention of actually sleeping but she had been so adamant about him leaving her alone that he had felt obligated to oblige. As he thought over the day's events, another question began clawing relentlessly at the edge of his mind. _How did she get so powerful?_

He had never been able to understand why Hydra had wanted her _so_ badly, desperately almost. They had never afforded him an explanation as to why, merely demanding her alive and relatively intact, but the more he thought it over the more he struggled to understand. He had known her with relatively little power, having seen her move objects a few inches, and the abilities he had seen in Washington hadn't been entirely surprising either – certainly not something that Hydra would risk everything for. What she had done in the square today, however, was something he knew they would do _anything_ to posses. Unfortunately, that thought led him somewhere a little more painful.

The only way they could know that she could pull information from another's mind is if they had seen her do it, or had made her do it before. Knowing Lizzy like he did, or at least used to, he knew she was not one to easily bend to another's will. As far as he knew, Elizabeth wasn't like him, or Steve even, she had lived through every single year that she had been alive – almost a century of consciousness – meaning Hydra could have possessed her for decades on end. He doubted there was anyone that could resist being broken down by them in that expanse of time. The idea terrified him; _what had they done to her_?

Squeezing his eyes shut and desperately attempting to remove those thoughts from his head, with little success, he shifted his focus upon another question. _How could he tell her the truth_? She would be furious with him for lying, he knew, but it would certainly get worse the longer he left it. He didn't even feel as though he had a choice at this point; his only other option would be to let her leave after tonight and never contacting her again. He sincerely doubted he would be able to do that; if the last few days had taught him anything, it was that Elizabeth was not somebody that he would be able to forget about and move on – no matter how much he pretended otherwise.

A sudden sound of smashing glass drew his attention to the other room and, thoughts tumbling through dangerous scenarios, he left the room. "Lizzy?!" He found her crouching on the floor, unharmed, beside scattered shards of broken glass.

Glancing up at him dazedly, she awkwardly bit her lip before explaining herself. "Sorry, it just... slipped." Her lilting tone was light and airy, as though the words were escaping her of their own accord – as though her mind were entirely occupied with something else entirely. A single sharp shard of glass was clutched in her hand but she made no move to retrieve the rest of the pieces.

Eyebrows pinched together he stepped forward cautiously, before crouching beside her and collecting the remaining shards.

For a moment, she didn't react to this movement but all of sudden she seemed to notice he was there. "Oh... sorry," she followed his lead as he stood and carelessly discarded the glass shards. Watching her carefully for a moment, he felt concern ripple through him. "Lizzy, what's wrong?"

As she looked to him, the sides of her lips raised in a practiced way while her forehead smoothed and relaxed with an unreal ease. Something seemed to change halfway through this practiced transformation, however, as she allowed her face to fall back into its previous pinched and pained expression. "Look, I-I don't-" Twisting her lips, she fell silent, squeezing her eyes shut for just a moment.

Seeming to settle herself somewhat, she spoke with a somewhat stronger tone, "I'm sorry for... blowing up at you like that..."

Guilt began eating away at him once more as his eyes glanced over her features; never before had he known her to look so utterly worn down and defeated. Instantly beginning to speak, to tell her that _nothing_ was her fault, he stepped forwards. "No, Lizzy-" He wanted to explain to her that he was an idiot who seemed to lack any self-control, but putting that into words seemed almost impossible. "Lizzy-" he started over again, hoping it would somehow be easier a second time.

She cut him off quickly, appearing to have barely noticed him speaking in the first place. "It wasn't you... at all." Eyebrows pulling together, he regarded her with uncertainty; _what could she mean by that?_ It didn't seem possible that she _wasn't_ afraid of him, an idea that was almost too good to be true.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy." There were so many things he was apologizing for in that one sentence; hurting her, scaring her, kissing her, lying to her and even leaving her all those years ago in the first place. Over the past few months bittersweet fantasies of what his life could have been, had he stayed, had near constantly plagued his mind and he hated himself for being the one to tear that peaceful life apart.

Sighing, she looked up to him, eyes shining with unshed tears. Stiffly, she nodded – accepting his words without fully understanding them. She allowed silence to settle between them then as they stood, distant from one another. Eventually, she appeared to compose herself – so suddenly that he was certain that she was well practiced in pretending that everything was fine. "We should go."

* * *

The building across from them was shabby to say the least but Elizabeth felt she was getting increasingly used to shabby surroundings. "You sure this is the place?" Not turning to look at him, she nodded silently. Thinking for a moment, hoping to find a way to subtly request that he stay back and let her sort this out, she bit her lip. At her extended silence he prompted her to say something, "Lizzy?"

Trying not to bristle at the sound of his voice, feeling her sanity beginning to slip, she squeezed her eyes shut. "You stay here, I'm going in." Hoping, rather idiotically, that he wouldn't argue she moved to walk away. His hand gripping her arm pulled her back and as he turned her to face him she pulled herself free. Keeping her eyes stubbornly upon his shoulder instead of his face, she waited for him to explain himself.

"Lizzy, you can't." He didn't seem to bother explaining _why_ she couldn't and that fact annoyed her far more than it really should.

Aggravated, she openly rolled her eyes. "Yes, I can." She went to walk away once more but was pulled back once more.

"Lizzy, look at me." After a moment hesitation she begrudgingly complied. He looked so concerned for her, so worried, as his eyes searched her face. Somehow, the concern managed to aggravate her even more.

"I get it, okay?" Her tone was tight as she pushed him away, "you don't want my death on your hands but, I got this – I'm a big girl."

He didn't reply for a short while, his eyes watching her with a look that was clearly attempting to figure her out. It pained her to know that she was still so familiar with every little thing he did and every little expression he made. "Why can't I help you?"

Trying to come up with something, anything, to get him off her case, she nodded. "Staying here _is_ helping me, Bucky," she began, imploringly. "Trying to add memories into someone's head is a lot harder than simply taking them out and... if someone comes in while I'm doing it... it wouldn't end well for me." He seemed to be considering her words but she could tell he was dubious. Stepping forward and laying a hand on his arm she looked up to him and lowered her voice, "please, Bucky."

Looking away, he huffed and finally nodded in agreement. "Okay, Lizzy. But if _anything_ seems off or... _anything_ , come get me."

Trying to hide the relief parading through her brain, Elizabeth gave a curt nod. "Yeah of course." Without another word she walked off, thankfully unimpeded by him pulling her back.

The inside of the building wasn't any more glamorous than the outside but Elizabeth barely payed attention to her surroundings as she listlessly climbed the stairs. As she stopped outside of the door and stood, silently, listening for activity, she felt guilt gnaw at her. She couldn't seem to stop lying, not even to Bucky, a guy that didn't even know who she was.

Reaching into her heavy coat she pulled out her gun, which he thankfully hadn't noticed, and quickly flipped off the safety. Taking a breath, she thought through what she was about to do. While she had told him that she would mess with their memories, _convince_ them that he had gone to some faraway country, she knew there was no way she would be able to pull it off. What she had done yesterday morning was far simpler than creating entirely new memories and she had barely managed to pull that off. The only thing she could feasibly do was to kill the three of them, she just didn't want Bucky to have to help her do it.

Pulling herself together and refocusing herself on the issue at hand, Elizabeth slowly and silently opened the door before her. Eyes darting to the corners, searching for signs of life, Elizabeth could hear the men talking in the other room.

"We just need a few more days."

Elizabeth moved herself beside the firmly closed door, pressing her back against the wall beside it.

"We don't have a few more days, the asset isn't here." Eyebrows pulling together, Elizabeth wondered over what that even meant. From the mere fact that they had been following him around obviously enough for him to call her it seemed pretty obvious that they knew he was there.

A third voice quickly added to the conversation. "Even if she is here, the three of us won't be able to do anything."

 _She_? Suddenly, Elizabeth felt a little sick.

She could hear footsteps falling closer to the door. "Then we'll call the others back!" This particular voice seemed enthused and excited as he attempted to convince his colleague. "I'm telling you, she'll come find him."

Feeling her brain reeling from the information being thrown at her, Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. The rattle of the doorknob instantly regained her attention and all the disquiet in her mind melted away as she concentrated on the task at hand. The handle turned and a man, whose eyes were turned to the others behind him in the room, began to exit the room.

"We've been here for almost a month and -" He was interrupted by her gunshot and, as his body crumpled to the floor, the others merely stared at her – seemingly unsure what to even do.

Instinctively, Elizabeth's gut was telling her that this had all been far too easy, too simple. Pushing the thoughts away, not wishing to overthink every little thing in her life, she pulled the trigger once more. The desperately yelled words "use the-" were the last thing the man uttered before he died and Elizabeth barely had time to think of what he may have been saying before a small black box was sent skittering over the floor towards her feet.

Thinking nothing of it, unsure what it could really be, Elizabeth went to take aim once more. Her finger was hovering over the trigger, ready to pull, when electricity exploded around her. The white hot tendrils of electricity seemed to pull her to the ground, the gun slipping from her fingers as they spasmed uncontrollably. A yelp escaped her as her knees impacted the wooded floor below and she could feel her power batting around inside her – trapped.

Panic interlaced with the pain searing through her jerking body and she could barely concentrate on the figure stood a few feet before her. Through the blur of her vision she could tell he was standing still. Her mind was too preoccupied with pain to consider why that was the case as she awkwardly fumbled around trying to find her dropped gun.

Her twitching muscles made searching difficult but she eventually felt the cool metal graze against her fingertips. Shakily taking a hold of the gun she raised it hastily and took a shot. She could tell she had missed and she couldn't say that she was surprised, she wasn't exactly able to steadily aim. Gritting her teeth against the electricity coursing through her Elizabeth re-aimed and squeezed the trigger.

The black box beside her shattered easily as the bullet pierced through it and Elizabeth felt instant relief from the sparking heat. Breathing heavily, she turned her now focused eyes upon the last man standing. Terrified was barely a strong enough word to describe the expression painting the man's features. His hands were held in front of him awkwardly and his feet were ever so slowly shuffling away from her. By the time she had heaved herself to her feet and raised the gun his back had pressed against the wall behind, almost as though he wished to disappear into it.

She considered questioning him for a moment but ultimately gave up on the idea considering how doubtful it was that he would give anything up. She may have persevered regardless had she not been wary of who was waiting downstairs for her. She doubted he would be entirely patient, considering his previous concern, and was likely already making his way up to her. Squeezing the trigger, she watched the man fall before turning her back and leaving the apartment entirely. After shutting the door behind her she leaned her heavy head upon it for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut in something akin to exhaustion.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and straightened her posture – squaring her shoulders and readying to act as though everything were absolutely fine once again. The walk down the stairs took almost twice the amount of time as the ascent had and Elizabeth was having trouble deciphering what she was so reluctant about.

If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she knew exactly what she was so reluctant for. The job was done and thus, the entire reason for her being there had just disappeared. Although it had been difficult, impossible at times, to simply be around him, she was dreading leaving him again. Just knowing that he would be out there somewhere, never being sure whether or not he was okay and never knowing if she would ever see him again – she wasn't sure if she could even do it.

Her haze of thoughts was suddenly interrupted as she walked straight into an approaching figure. She knew it was him the moment she barreled into him, but she didn't glance up. "Lizzy?" From the tone of his voice she could tell he was surprised by how she looked and she belatedly realized that she probably looked more than a little rough.

Finally chancing looking up at him, she chanced a half smirk, "Er... hi?"

"What happened?" It was fairly obvious that he knew that something wasn't quite right, that things weren't quite adding up, but he seemed to _want_ to believe her. That fact increased her guilt tenfold but she knew she had to be cruel to be kind.

"Everything went perfectly," that statement was true at least – except for the fact that she hadn't told him what she had _actually_ planned to do. "I'm just... tired," pretending to be off balance, she 'steadied' herself with a hand loosely placed upon his arm. "Can we just..." she let each word drag a little, as though tiredness was pulling at her, "go back to yours?"

He considered her for a minute, as though he knew better than to trust her but wanted to regardless. Eventually, he relented. "Yeah... can you walk?"

Nodding, perhaps a little too eagerly, she began leading him from the building. "I feel better than last time." As she turned back for one last glance at him, she found his eyes turned to the building they had just exited – clearly conflicted. In an effort to redirect his attention, she spoke again, "hey, Bucky."

Looking back to her quickly, as though not wishing to be caught watching the building behind them, he quickly replied, "yeah?"

"Where are you gonna go now?" He shrugged, having clearly not thought too much about it. She hadn't really expected him to know, having merely used the question to divert his attention, but she found his lack of verbal response a little surprising.

The rest of their journey back was similarly silent, the sounds of the city punctuating the silence that had settled between them. He seemed preoccupied, she thought, his eyes remaining downcast as his fingers worked the fabric of his coat. She had only seen such an expression on him once previously, just before he had worked up the courage to tell her that he had enlisted. She had known what he had been about to tell her that time, it hadn't been especially difficult to piece together, but this time she couldn't think of anything. All she really knew was that she didn't want to hear it, or even, that she couldn't stand to drag this all out any longer.

When they reached his apartment she headed straight for the half-broken couch and stretched out upon it as best she could. "I'm taking the couch tonight," she dismissively informed him. Unfortunately, he didn't take her cue to leave and instead chose to stand awkwardly off to the side, wringing his hands together. Huffing, she sat up and raised her eyebrows expectantly at him.

He released a breath before allowing his eyes to flicker briefly over hers. "There's something... you should know."

She had to admit, she was curious, but her overwhelming feeling was one of anxiety. Dropping her head into her hands, allowing some of her stress to show for just a moment, she ran a hand through her ragged hair before looking up and meeting his gaze. "Can it wait?" She said the words softly, attempting to soften whatever blow they may bring. "I just... I'm _so_ tired." She wasn't lying, she was exhausted.

He looked conflicted as he considered her words and almost seemed to think about ignoring them entirely, mouth opening resolutely to tell her whatever he was so afraid of, but thought better upon seeing her bedraggled appearance. Elizabeth was almost afraid to look in the mirror at this point. "Yeah, it can wait." The almost sullen tone of his voice suggested that he felt differently but she was past caring at that point. He stood awkwardly off to the side for a moment longer, watching her with some indistinguishable expression, before he turned his gaze away. "Night."

"Yeah," she supplied, half-heartedly.

Closing her eyes she listened for his footsteps as he moved from the room and the moment the sound disappeared she reopened her eyes. Sitting up, she released a silent sigh and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth – considering everything that had happened in the previous days.

Fear was the first emotion that sparkled through her mind as she considered what she had discovered just hours previously. Finding out that this mysterious group of people had, in fact, been searching for her had caused a whirl of uncertainties to speed through her mind. _Would she even still be safe in New York? Surely their lack of success at drawing her out would cause them to try something just a little riskier?_ What scared her the most was how close they had been to actually succeeding, how predictable she clearly was. They had been using him as _bait_ and _it had worked_. Concern for him was stark in her mind; If they had thought to use him once, they would likely try again. She had been constantly terrified over the previous months that someone would find him again anyway but now, knowing that it could because of her, she felt even worse.

The whole situation was a fucking mess.

Pushing thoughts of her apparently impending doom away, her mind instantly raced back to the other issue that had plagued her every thought; that goddamn kiss. She _still_ couldn't wrap her head around, couldn't even hope to understand it. Maybe there was some minute, fractured and fragmented memory of her _somewhere_ in his mind that had pushed him to do it – something he wasn't even aware of. It seemed reasonable, this explanation, but she didn't believe it for a moment – something about the entire thing wasn't adding up but she _just_ _couldn't_ quite figure out what it was.

The worst thing that had come of the time she had spent with him was the unfortunate realization that she was, somehow, still entirely in love with him. She had always known that she still loved him, aware to an extent that she always would, but she had thought – or perhaps hoped – that it had faded somewhat. Perhaps a small part of her had always known, however, but she could never seemed to accept it; accept just how _much_ she had missed him and how much she needed him. It was awful, to be this restless and upset, when she knew that his mind was likely quiet and unaffected by the entire thing.

Roughly running a hand through her hair she felt aggravation swell within her. Eyes darting to her bag, slung haphazardly onto the counter, she bit her lip as she considered her options. As much as she wanted to stay here forever, she knew that leaving now – without an awkward goodbye – would be easier and at this point all she selfishly wanted was an easy life.

And so, she sat calmly in the dark waiting for his breaths to steady so she could leave without him noticing.

* * *

 **Hey guys! So sorry about the ridiculous wait but life has been pretty hectic recently and I've had no time to do anything really!**

 **As usual thanks for reading, shoutouts to _Jag_ and _beccasco_ for reviewing last chapter! Big thanks as well to anyone who favourited or followed last chapter!**

 **Hopefully next chapter won't take so long!**


	19. Chapter 19

"I'm actually just coming back now, Stevie." Her phone was being precariously balanced between her shoulder and ear as she used one hand to keep hold of the dog leash and the other to jam the keys into the lock. He gave a sigh at the name she called him but didn't bother reprimanding her – seeming to have finally given up.

" _I'm sorry, Lizzy, I tried to talk him out of it but he's.._." Steve trailed off, uncertain of how to phrase himself.

"Relentless?" She supplied, shoving the door with her shoulder and practically falling into Frank's apartment. She heard him give a small chuckle at her response but the rest of his reply went completely unnoticed as she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Instantly, she felt her muscles begin to tense, readying for the fight that was sure to follow but she suddenly relaxed when her eyes darted to his face. The keys dropped from her hand with a clanging and landed upon the dog, who whined quietly in response.

" _Lizzy?_ " Steve's voice in her ear reminded her that she couldn't react vocally to who was standing before her, as she had been about to.

"Oh – uh..." She sputtered out, her mind still racing. "Stevie, the dog just ran off I – uh – I'm gonna have to go." Mentally, she made a note to stop using Frank's dog as an excuse.

" _Right_." Steve replied in a tone that suggested that he didn't quite believe her, something she didn't find surprising. Guilt resurfaced instantly but she was growing used to ignoring it by now.

"See you soon!" She injected enthusiasm into her tone to make up for hanging up on him, but didn't stay on the line for long enough to see how effective it was. Discarding her phone carelessly on the couch beside her, she rushed forward to embrace Frank.

She had never thought of Frank as much of a hugger, likely due to the fact that she had never actually embraced him, but she barely cared in that moment. She was just _so_ relieved that he was alive and free and standing in his apartment. Unsurprisingly, he returned the embrace with less fervor than she had initiated it with, his warm hands loosely resting on her back, but she felt comforted nonetheless.

Eventually, she pulled back and looked him over. It wasn't often that he was entirely uninjured, at this point she wasn't sure she would recognize him without bruises, but it seemed today that every inch of him was covered in angry blotches of black, blue and even green. Concern springing forth automatically, she lightly pressed her hand against his cheek – beside a large and seemingly untreated cut.

"Jesus, Frank." As she breathed the words she moved away from him and into the cluttered kitchen – wetting a cloth in the sink. "What happened to you?"

Unsurprisingly, he replied nonchalantly. "It's nothing." Frustrated with his evasiveness but having learnt to put up with it, acknowledging that she wasn't the most honest person in the world either, she heaved a sigh. As she dabbed the cloth upon the wound on his cheek, he barely reacted to the light sting and she wasn't entirely surprised, if anyone knew pain – it was Frank.

The repetitive task that she had set herself quickly led to her mind become disquieted. Elizabeth dropped her hands and looked away – torn. After an uninterrupted moment of silence, she lifted her eyes back to his. "Is it really worth it, Frank?" Her voice was a whisper as she asked, afraid of the answer almost. He didn't reply, merely gave her a rather intense, questioning gaze – maybe he wasn't sure of the answer. "All this..." she gestured widely to his entire person, "this pain?"

"Yeah." Elizabeth couldn't tell how certain he really was of his answer.

She didn't understand. "But... what's the point?" She had asked herself this question too many times to count.

It took him a moment to answer and it quickly became clear that he hadn't thought this over before – _maybe Elizabeth simply had too much time on her hands, maybe she just cared too much._ He didn't answer, not verbally, but his lack of response told her enough. There _wasn't_ a point in his mind, but somehow, it didn't seem to bother him.

* * *

Her head was still spinning in neurotic circles when she arrived at the tower but the sight of Steve waiting eased her slightly. His warm smile was comfortingly familiar as he pulled her into a hug. "Happy Birthday, Lizzy."

Smiling, although it felt like more of a grimace, Elizabeth nodded stiffly. "Thanks, Steve."

It was difficult to so much as fake enthusiasm for her birthday these days. On the one hand her birthday served as a reminder for how many years she had been forced to endure whilst it also seemed to bring back memories that practically taunted her with their happiness.

As they headed for the elevator Steve glanced her way. "Sure you're ready for this?" As he spoke he gestured upwards, indicating the ridiculous party that Tony had decided to throw for her. Although, she knew full well that it wasn't really _for_ _her_.

Sighing with tiredness, Elizabeth begrudgingly nodded and stepped into the elevator. Almost the instant the doors slid closed her phone chirped to life and shrilly rang through the air. Huffing, Elizabeth resolutely ignored the sound – knowing exactly who was calling her for the hundredth time. "You gonna get that?"

Steve seemed a little surprised by her complete lack of response to her ringing phone and she belatedly realized that it was perhaps just a little suspicious. "No," she began lightly, "it's probably just a wrong number." Her words were paired with a calculated shrug, hoping to remove any suspicion from his mind.

Seeming a little unconvinced by her flippant reply, Steve raised his eyebrows at her. "How can you be so sure?"

Shooting him a smirk, she gestured to the opening door. "Well," she began, stepping forward, "everyone I know is here." Of course, that wasn't entirely true but Steve didn't need to know that.

Thankfully, her phone had stopped ringing by the time they stepped from the elevator and were swiftly greeted by Tony, drink already in hand. "Lizzy! You made it?" The way he inclined his statement as though it were a question indicated how surprised he was that she had actually turned up. Unsurprising, considering how vocal she had been about hating the idea of a party.

She hadn't been planning on coming either, for the weeks that she had known it was coming she had been fairly adamant that she would _not_ be turning up. After everything that had happened in Bratislava, however, she felt as though she wanted nothing more than to disappear into a crowd, craved the strange anonymity it brought.

"Well," she began, bringing her attention back to Tony, "I thought this was my party?" Honestly, despite the public premise behind this party, she knew it wasn't really for her. A lot had happened to Tony recently, he was feeling left behind by the people around him and having a crowd around him, of people he knew, seemed to validate him in some strange way. Or distract him at least. She felt partly to blame for Tony's current state of mind, she had never kept anything from him before – always being completely honest, painfully so at times – but things had changed and he had clearly sensed it.

Sheepishly, he looked off to the side. "Well, I know your birthday's... a sore point." His voice had dropped in volume and she could tell that he felt at least a little guilty for forcing this party upon her. Fortunately, considering that she had no idea how to explain her sudden change of heart, she wasn't forced to answer as she was practically attacked from behind.

Her toes skimmed the ground slightly, making her feel like a child almost, as he excitedly hugged her. When she was finally released, she didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "Elizabeth!" Looking him over as he spoke with his unique and booming voice, Elizabeth noted that he was wearing rather pedestrian clothes; _disappointing_.

"Thor," She replied smoothly, with a smile, noting how much attention Steve was suddenly paying her. Something she had noticed about Steve was that he didn't seem to understand the concept of flirting for fun, and so he seemed extra cautious when she was with Thor. For some reason he didn't seem to like the idea of her ending up with anyone other than Bucky, something she probably should talk to him about but didn't want to have to deal with - _ever_. "Where's the hammer?" She asked, with a smile and a touch of his arm.

He gave a smile back, almost amused – as he always seemed around her, as though they were both in on some joke – then gestured behind himself. Glancing that way, Elizabeth let out an unattractive snort of laughter at what she saw. A thoroughly aggravated Clint was sat upon the couch, the hammer upon his lap – keeping him in place. She was fairly certain she had been the one to open Thor's eyes to the multitude of hilarious possibilities his hammer afforded him; having convinced him a while ago to place it on top of Tony's phone.

Turning back to her now laughing features, he glanced to his empty glass then back to her. "I would offer you my drink but it appears my glass is empty," he told her, in an amused tone – likely knowing how she would reply.

Raising her eyebrows she shot back a question without hesitation. "You could always fetch me another?"

An almost guffawing laugh sounded then, the intensity of which would have surprised her were she not so used to his presence by now, before he nodded and turned to leave. Watching his hulking figure somehow disappear into the surprising crowd, Elizabeth turned back to Tony. "You really did invite everyone, huh?"

Shrugging, he smirked, "what's a party without at least one god?" She laughed breathily and nodded, aimlessly letting her eyes wander among the crowd. "Besides, figured I'd give you another chance to become 'Mrs Thor'." This time she laughed out loud.

"I will rule Asgard one day." She told him, sarcastically, as she watched Steve's eyes dart about the room. A smile was pulling at her lips as his eyes returned to hers, sheepishly.

"I- I'm going to... mingle." She couldn't stop her lips from pulling up into a full smile, as she nodded dubiously.

"Sure," she told him. "Have fun," she added with a knowing smirk. Elizabeth knew that he wasn't hoping to _just_ mingle, he was more than likely hoping to see Sharon and stand awkwardly off to the side until he worked up the courage to speak to her. Elizabeth found it laughable, Steve could face armed terrorists and super-powered mad men but when it came to flirting and talking to a woman he liked, he practically flailed.

"They grow up so fast, huh?" The sarcastic tone beside her caused another chuckle to rise in her throat and she threw a cursory glance back at Tony.

Sparing a fleeting glance to the rather extensive crowd, filled with an array of unfamiliar faces, Elizabeth subtly stepped closer to Tony and murmured a question. "How many people did you invite?" At his unhelpful shrug, Elizabeth huffed and rolled her eyes. "I don't even know half these people, Tony." She pointlessly complained.

Unsurprisingly, he seemed unfazed by her complaint, merely smirking to himself as he sipped his drink. _Maybe he was trying to increase her social circle?_ She doubted it would work. "C'mon Lizzy," he began enthusiastically, "that's half the fun."

Groaning, and ready to complain further, she opened her mouth to reply – snappily telling him that he had thrown this party for himself and not for her, but he interrupted her without realizing. Eyes upon someone else, he grinned like a mischievous child and hurried away to where Bruce was standing – muttering a quick "have fun," over his shoulder.

She stood awkwardly in silence for a little while, hoping that nobody would think to strike up a conversation with her. When her phone rang suddenly she barely even reacted, hitting decline calmly before sliding it back into her pocket – she had an unsettling feeling that tonight was going to be difficult.

If it were any other point in time she might have actually been able to enjoy herself, or at least pretend she was, but she just didn't have the energy to even fake a convincing smile. Her birthday was a shitty enough time for her but with everything that had happened over the last few days she felt completely drained. She just needed some air, or maybe just a drink.

As if on cue, Thor appeared at her side handing her a large drink alongside a hearty smile. Without bothering to question the contents of the glass, Elizabeth raised it, muttered "cheers," and gulped it down.

* * *

After what had felt like a decade of awkward interactions, the party had finally begun to subside. Thankfully, the only guests left were the ones that she had actually met before. The group of them were lounging around the large sofas at this point, each of them beginning to feel the pull of alcohol and tiredness but soldiering on regardless.

Elizabeth wasn't paying much attention to the conversation around her but her slightly inebriated state made it easier for her to occasionally interject despite her lack of energy. Feeling strangely proud of herself, mostly for not being as blind drunk as she would have liked to be, Elizabeth felt oddly relaxed.

When her phone jumped to life she didn't react, having been expecting it after the almost endless stream of calls she had received over the course of the day. Heaving a worn down sigh, knowing she was going to have to answer sooner or later, Elizabeth quietly stood and gestured pointedly to her ringing phone when Steve glanced questioningly over to her.

Heading out onto the balcony and slowly sliding the door shut behind her, cutting herself off from the others, Elizabeth took a breath and accepted the call. "Hello?" Why her voice sounded so thin and uncertain she couldn't say; putting this off for so long likely hadn't helped her nerves.

" _Lizzy_." Bucky almost sounded relieved and she wasn't entirely surprised considering that she had been dodging his relentless calls for the entire day – if anything she was surprised that he hadn't given up as of yet.

"That's me," she said, stupidly, before cursing her now fuzzy brain. Cringing, she pushed forward, "are you okay?"

He didn't bothering answering her question, choosing instead to dive right in to whatever he was so desperate to tell her. " _Where did you go?_ "

Feeling the wind graze against her skin and the cool air seep into her bones, she brought an arm around herself in an almost half hug. Biting her lip and pushing her hair from her eyes Elizabeth couldn't quite figure out what he wanted to hear. "Home," she settled for the single word, unsure what else to say.

" _Why?_ "

For the life of her, she couldn't figure out the answer to that question. "I-" she began, before trailing off uselessly. After a pregnant pause she squeezed her eyes shut and gave him the best response she could muster. "I don't know..."

Those three words gave away too much about how desperately she had felt the need to get away, without any real tangible reason, so she quickly changed the subject. "Why did you ask me to help you?" He didn't reply straight away and she thought that was telling – what it was telling of, however, she couldn't be sure. When he didn't proceed to answer, she pushed him – wanting to at least come close to understanding. "You didn't need my help, not really."

She heard a heavy breath from the line before he, begrudgingly almost, gave his reply. " _I wanted to see you._ "

A little taken aback, having expected anything but that, Elizabeth didn't say anything for a long while. Phone still clutched to her ear, she listlessly moved to the edge of the balcony; looking across the skyline as thoughts raced wildly through her mind. After a long while she breathed out another, simpler, question. "Why?"

There was a pause on the other side, followed by a sigh and then, finally, words. " _I remember you._ "

Her heart seemed to jump out of her chest at the words but she didn't understand – couldn't let herself believe. "That's... what?" Her voice was shaky and betrayed her uncertainty.

" _I remember you_." He repeated himself, plainly, likely in an attempt to get through to her.

"You..." she didn't know what to say, she felt oddly cheated somehow and couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't more pleased. "I don't believe you," she told him quietly, clutching the phone to her ear as though she were afraid of letting it go and somehow losing him forever.

She could practically hear him considering his options over the phone and she waited with bated breath for him to convince her. " _Today's your birthday_." Something akin to excitement boiled up inside her but she squashed it down as she reminded herself that her birthday was practically public information at this point. At her maintained silence he continued, seemingly becoming surer of himself as he spoke.

" _You used to work in that diner,_ " _that doesn't prove anything_ , she thought. " _And you lived with your father in that house by the tree_ ," _that information was probably online somewhere_ , she reasoned – increasingly unconvinced by herself.

" _Your favorite color was blue and you hated yellow_ ," her inner monologue went completely silent for a moment as she listened to his words, "y _ou said it was too cheerful and over the top_." His words were followed by a short and almost saddened chuckle – the somewhat cheerful memory inciting sadness now.

And all of a sudden, she was entirely convinced. Just the way he said it, with such nostalgia, she couldn't reasonably doubt him – couldn't logically come up with any way he could know such an intimate fact about her. There was suddenly so much she wanted to say and ask but, as tears slipped down her cheeks, she couldn't seem to muster up any words. Her maintained silence encouraged him to continue, with no idea of the effect he was having.

" _We used to go to the fair every year, and we had to stay until the end **every single** year because you liked the fireworks._ " There was a pause and a humorless chuckle. " _I always tried to win the most ridiculous prizes for you_."

He went to continue, to reel off even more painful details from their past, but she couldn't listen anymore. "Please," she began – her voice small and almost inaudible, "stop." He allowed her the comfort of silence for a short while and she used the time to attempt to pull together a single, coherent thought. "I... I don't understand."

" _What is it, Lizzy?"_ His voice was so solid, stable – almost tangible – even across the phone.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

For the first time that night, his voice took on a waver of uncertainty. " _I- I'm not sure.._." she heard him breathe deeply, as though settling himself. " _I'm sorry, Lizzy_."

Somewhere, deep down, she felt angry, intensely so, that he had clearly been lying to her. There was disappointment and uncertainty coursing through her too, the unanswered question of 'why?' continually running through her mind. But none of it seemed to matter right then, she could deal with it later. "Where are you?"

Her question was breathed down the phone, almost as though she were scared of breaking herself out of whatever fantasy she was currently living in, but she never got to hear his reply. A sudden blast of heat and metal flung her from the balcony entirely – her phone slipping from her hand as she began to plummet downwards.

* * *

 **Sorry about the wait guys! Life is soooo hectic at the minute and I have no idea why! I wanna assure everyone quickly that while I might not update as often as I used to but I won't ever give up on this story!**

 **Anyway, back to business, big thank you to _Musik Drache_ (jag) and _.2017_ for their awesome reviews last chapter! Special shoutout to _17 Daybreak_ as well for reviewing a whole bunch of chapters and giving me something to smile like an idiot about! The next chapter should have a little bit of action in there for you too! **

**And, as usual, just a big general thank you to anyone who read, favorited and followed after last chapter! I'd love to hear any thoughts, ideas and questions you've got so feel free to leave a review!**


	20. Chapter 20

"Lizzy?" There was no reply except for the ominous sound of air rushing past the receiver. "Lizzy?" He tried again, unadulterated panic seeping from his tone. His heart was racing at a mile a minute, having jumped into sixth gear when the sounds of an explosion spilled from the phone. He opened his mouth to call for her again but the phone suddenly went eerily silent, as though she had hung up on him, but he had an awful feeling that something else had happened.

Dropping his phone from his ear, looking down at it in silence for a moment – completely unsure of what to do – he tried to stem his panic. Quickly redialing her number, that he had seemed to memorize without noticing, he held his breath as he started the call.

When the phone refused to even connect he swore and threw it off to the side – not bothering to check where it landed, he had no need for it now. Running a hand through his hair, he looked pointlessly around his shitty apartment – as though something in it were going to provide the answer somehow.

Unsurprisingly, nothing did.

His eyes flickered to the dusty, yet unused, television screen in the corner. Almost apprehensive, worried about what he might find, he slowly stepped to where the screen rested. He watched the blank screen nervously as he pressed the grey button and saw the screen fuzzily light up. As the picture cleared he could make out two people, speaking in a language that he could barely recognize. Flicking through the channels, he felt his heart-rate increase with every uncertain second.

Finally, he landed on a channel that was more familiar – a news channel. He still couldn't understand the language but he knew what he was seeing. It was a live broadcast, showing a tower in New York – one that he recognized as Stark's. The top of the tower was blanketed in smoke, but the camera seemed to be focusing on a figure that appeared to be hanging from thin air. He knew it was her – the slight figure and the way her mass of hair hung limply around her – it was unmistakable.

Now that he had at least some idea of what had happened he wasn't sure what to do. Standing listlessly by the TV set, he desperately tried to decipher what was being said but the words were being spoken so fast that he could barely make out a single word. He sat across from the screen, wringing his hands together as he watched and waited.

* * *

Before she knew anything else she knew she was flying through the air. There was a pain in her side but she was resolutely ignoring it as she attempted to figure out what was happening to her. She was falling now, plummeting downwards at a terrifying speed.

Trying desperately to see through the haze that her own hair was creating, she felt a sudden sensation upon her left ankle – as though a rope were being looped around it. It took her still surprised mind longer than it should have to reasonably guess that it was her power, once again acting of its own accord to save her.

She could feel the strange warmth tugging her ankle, slowing her just enough so that a sudden stop wouldn't snap her spine. When the sudden halting of her movement did come, she still felt the jolt ricochet throughout her entire being, but the pain was only momentary. Now hanging limply in the air, she twisted herself to see what was happening.

What looked to be one of Tony's suits was bearing down on her, and fast. Something was definitely wrong with it, it seemed off kilter somehow. Knowing she needed to get herself on solid ground of some sort, and accepting that the ground below was too far away, she heaved herself up and regained control over the power that was currently holding her up.

Keeping her back horizontal, as she hung from her leg, she focused on creating a shadowed platform beneath her that she prayed she would be able to maintain. With a somewhat calming breath, she released the shadowed loop from her ankle and allowed herself to fall. She landed hard upon the surface that she had created below her but felt relief when it held. She felt her energy draining fast, despite the initial relief, and knew she would have to deal with this threat fast.

She doubted she would be able to support the structure beneath her and launch a huge attack on the mechanized figure bearing down on her all at once. She needed to be smart about this – something incredibly difficult considering the speed at which it was approaching.

The armor would be weakest at the joints, where the plates of metal were forced to slide over each other. Using targeted bursts of power she could feasibly dismantle the armor without too much effort but it was racing towards her at such a pace that she wasn't sure how well she could aim.

Something she hadn't been expecting, was for the drone to stop mid-flight and attack. Swearing loudly, Elizabeth conjured a shield to deflect the sudden laser blast. She could feel the heat of the attack through the fabric of her shield and its destructive power was wholly inescapable. Gritting her teeth she could feel the support below her beginning to fade as her attention remained divided, but there was nothing she could do.

She let out a screeching yelp as the structure beneath wavered beyond repair. Out of nowhere her mind felt as though it were tumbling out of control, she couldn't think straight – she could barely think at all. The distorted armored suit was rushing forwards once more, clearly sensing her derailed thoughts, but fear didn't spark within her.

Instead she felt herself slip away as an immense power amassed around her.

* * *

She awoke with a throbbing in her skull and a burning in her chest and back. Groaning loudly, she shifted against the soft fabric below her. As her eyes flickered open she noted the warm lights of the room she was in and realized, with much relief, that she wasn't waking up in a hospital.

"Morning slugger," eyes shifting to where Tony stood, smirking down at her, she raised a hand to her head. She was about to moan about how it couldn't be morning already when Steve's voice cut through that thought.

"It's the middle of the night, Tony." A small weak smile lifted her lips at the disapproving tone painting his voice.

Shifting her hands against the surface below her, she began to sit up and quickly felt pain flare up all over. "What...?" She wasn't entirely sure whether she was asking what had happened or what was wrong with her but she figured the single word encapsulated everything well enough.

She watched Steve share an uncertain glance with Tony before looking back to her. Wringing his hands together he finally answered, "You fell about 500 feet, Lizzy."

Piecing together what she could remember she knew that that was likely true, but she knew he must be missing something out. "Who caught me, Thor?"

Another tense look was shared between the pair of men before Steve allowed her an answer. "Nobody caught you, Lizzy... you landed."

A snort of derisive, disbelieving laughter escaped her. Desperate as she was to lighten whatever terse mood had settled over them the sound still fell short of genuine.

"What did you do, Lizzy?" Her eyes flickered to Tony, there were few times she had known him be so stern – so serious, so drastically unlike himself.

Sitting up straight, crossing her arms over her chest and practically clawing at her side, she looked between the two of them – feeling afraid but being unsure as to why. "What are you talking about?"

For the first time during this short exchange, Steve's eyes didn't stray from hers to throw an uncertain glance at Tony, instead he held her wide eyes and sat beside her. As he heaved a sigh, she could sense the strain settling heavily upon his shoulders – she wished he would share some of it with her but she doubted she would be able to take much more herself. "You really don't remember?"

"You think?" She snapped, angry and upset that nobody was being straight with her.

Tony moved to stand behind the sofa she was currently sat upon and she heard a short rustle of movement which ended with the television before her lighting up – an image of her and her previous predicament glaring at her from the screen.

Raising her eyebrows she tried at a casual humor, "jeez, these news helicopters don't miss much." Her poor attempt at lightening the mood was met with a silence that indicated that she needed to shut up and watch.

And so she did.

She watched herself cower behind a shield of her own making as a blast of heat pummeled her resolve and the weakening platform below her began to fade from existence. Her head began to droop backwards, hair hanging limply about her as she remained suspended in mid-air – appearing to be hovering without support.

And then, all of a sudden, an explosion of stormy shadows appeared to surround her, engulf her entirely. It wasn't what she was used to seeing, the calm wisps of smoke moving lazily like a summer breeze, it was a raging storm of smoky clouds whirling around her prone figure – but it was definitely, clearly, emanating from her.

The obscured figure within this shell of raging darkness moved then – eyes wide open and shining a glaring, blinding, white. Her hands outstretched, palms up and fingers spread as though in surrender as her arms raised.

An intensely bad feeling was settling within the pit of her stomach, something about the image before her felt incredibly wrong – felt terrifying to witness. Briefly she considered that the mere knowledge that she hadn't been in control, that she hadn't even known what she was doing, was what was scaring her so intensely.

Her eyes followed her pursuer, rocketing towards her once more. It was ten meters from her and showing no signs of slowing as it hurtled toward her. In the few seconds it took for the metallic figure to collide with her shield her mind raced over the possibilities of what was about to happen.

The metallic figure finally reached the shadows lurking around her, the moment it made contact it entirely disintegrated – impossibly becoming nothing more than ashes floating slowly away upon the wind.

It was then that she realized what had scared her the most; she looked so powerful, immeasurably so, but she wasn't even aware of it – let alone in control.

The screen quickly cut to black as Tony wordlessly switched the entire system off. Her mouth was half agape as her mind panicked through questions, explanations and endless uncertainties. What the hell had happened to her?

A warm arm settled upon her shoulders, its attempt at comfort falling short as it seemed to do nothing but add weight to her already heavy frame. "It's gonna be okay, Lizzy."

Her gaze wandered blankly to Steve beside her, "is it?" Running a shaking hand through her hair and blowing a breath through her nose, she closed her eyes – frustrated. "What the hell happened?"

She heard Tony clear his throat beside her and her eyes turned to him in time to catch him glancing awkwardly down into his dark drink. _So it was his fault_ , she quickly guessed. "Call it," he began with his eyes finally meeting hers, "a misadventure in technology."

Rolling her eyes at his constant avoidance of everything, despite acknowledging her hypocrisy, she opened her mouth to push for something a little less cryptic but was immediately cut off.

"Lizzy! You're up!" The three stoic figures turned their attention to the doorway, spotting Sam. Hastily he stepped forward, meeting her in an embrace as she stood to greet him, "you alright?" He asked as he moved away from her.

"Looks like it," was her simple reply.

He cocked a smile at her usual sardonic tone and nodded. "Picked a hell of a time to take a phone call, huh?"

 _Fuck_ , her eyes jerked upwards as she remembered just what that phone call had entailed. She could see suspicion spark in Sam's eyes at her expression but the thoughts batting wildly around her mind made it easy to ignore.

Shoving her hands in her pockets and wildly glancing around when they proved to be empty, Elizabeth felt another pit of dread settle in her stomach. "Where's my phone?" She asked, without bothering to conceal the panic lacing itself through her tone.

Apparently not noticing her intense reaction, Tony shrugged. "Seems your phone isn't as indestructible as you."

Panic increasing yet further, her eyes widened as her hands dropped to her sides uselessly. "It's broken?"

"Yeah, Lizzy," he spoke as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "those things break if you drop them on the floor let alone off a building."

"So what does that mean?" She asked, her strained voice sounding harsh and demanding even to her own ears.

Giving her a questioning glance he raised his eyebrows but replied all the same. "Means it's time for a new one."

Fingers picking almost violently at the skin of her wrist, she tried to calm her tone – knowing she was giving far too much away. "Will I have the same number?"

"Does it matter?" The sudden interjection of Sam surprised her and, when she glanced his way, she could see it in his eyes – he knew something was amiss.

Ignoring Sam's question Tony threw words over his shoulder as he turned to leave "probably not," then, turning to face them at the doorway, "I'm going to bed."

Had she been more aware of the world around her she might have noted that him leaving 'for bed' was entirely out of character and his part in what had happened was leading him to avoid them.

An exhausted sigh sounded beside her then and she turned to find Steve slowly standing, expression drained. "Me too."

Worry barely registered in her mind at this point – it seemed near constantly there. Lifting a hand to his shoulder she nodded, "okay, Stevie." He spared her a long look and she could see that there was something he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask, but he seemed to think better of speaking.

Once he had left she spared Sam a look and, noting his almost accusatory stare, braced herself for whatever he was about to say. He crossed his arms over his chest as he continued his stare, making himself look imposing and stern.

Practically shrinking away, she wrapped her arms around herself – holding herself together.

Finally he spoke.

"Who was on the phone, Lizzy?"

Guilt taking over her expression, making her next lie entirely unbelievable, she replied. "Wrong number."

He snorted in derision, shaking his head at her pathetic attempt to conceal the truth. "Awfully long conversation for a wrong number." She shrugged in response, having no idea what to say but desperately trying to keep herself from spilling the truth. "Who was on the phone, Lizzy?"

Relenting, knowing it was pointless to pretend it was nothing, she answered, "I think you already know the answer to that."

His shoulders dropped, his posture beginning to mirror hers slightly – he, like her, knew that now was a terrible time to even think about this let alone figure out how to tell Steve about it. Dropping his arms, he sighed. "Is that where you've been?"

"Huh?" She prompted, one eyebrow cocking in confusion.

"C'mon, Lizzy. Dog sitting? _Really_?" A breath of laughter escaped her but she didn't find anything particularly funny. "Where is he?"

Eyes squeezing shut, she shook her head. "I don't know."

Unsurprisingly, he didn't believe her. "Lizzy," he told her, warningly.

Frustration bubbling to the surface, she let another breathy laugh escape her. "I don't know," she repeated, a sort of madness overtaking her tone, "I mean it! He _was_ in fucking Slovakia, but now?" Her hands were gripping her hair and pulling madly. "Fuck knows!" He was silent before her, unsure what to say or how to even approach the situation.

Ignoring his silence, not even really noticing his lack of response, she continued venting into the empty air. "I should have told Steve, _God_... I should've told him. But, but _he_ didn't remember us – he didn't care." Sam's expression had shifted from anger but she paid the shift no mind. "And Steve... he wanted to find him _so_ badly – but not... but he wanted someone that remembered – someone that fucking cared!"

"Lizzy-"

She cut him off instantly. "I couldn't do that to him – put him through all this shit!" She paused, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes, feeling tears wetting the skin there. "I really thought it was the right thing, Sam – keeping Steve away from all this but... but..."

"But?" He prompted, moving towards her slowly – calmly.

"But he _does_ remember – he fucking lied, that's what the call was about... he knows who we are, who _I_ am...and now..." Frustrated, she continued pulling at her hair. "Now what am I supposed to do, Sam? I _can't_ tell Steve now... can I?"

Sam glanced to the window outside, she could see him processing the information – figuring out what to do with it. "I don't see why not?"

"Because I _don't_ know where he is... and I have no fucking idea where to start looking."

That confused Sam, she could see it in the way his eyes darted instantly back to her and narrowed in suspicion, and she swiftly realized how much more she had just given away. "How'd you find him in the first place?"

Eyebrows crashing together as panic pulled at her, she breathed long and slow through her pursed lips. "I didn't really..."

"Yeah, you're gonna have to give me a little more than that, Lizzy." His terse tone worked to remind her how awful it really was for her to have kept this to herself, _how would she feel if it were Steve who had hidden this from her?_

"He... I was drunk in central park and... he gave me his coat." That didn't seem to be what Sam had expected to hear. "I gave him my number and told him to call me if he was ever in trouble and... he did."

A tense few moments went by in silence as Sam mulled over her words – as terrible as it was, she hoped he would allow her to continue lying to Steve, she didn't think she could face that just yet. Fiddling awkwardly with the ends of her hair, she tried desperately not to overthink Sam's current expression.

His face relaxed slightly but she could see the exasperation painting his gaze. Looking to her, he asked in a lighter tone; "Are you okay?"

"Err, I'm fine, Sam." Gesturing generally to herself, she continued, "see, I'm up and at 'em."

Thoughtful, he just continued blankly looking at her. "That's not what I meant, Lizzy." At the expression of confusion she shot him, he decided to explain himself. "C'mon, Lizzy, all the way back when we first met I mentioned his name and you looked ready to cry." She hadn't realized her reaction back then had been so outright. "Seeing him, now – especially after everything in Washington..."

Absently, her hand reached up to rub aimlessly at her neck – as she found herself doing often nowadays. Noticing the gesture, and knowing exactly what it implied, Sam spoke; "Yeah, that."

"No, I'm not okay, Sam." Dropping listlessly onto the couch below her, she held her head in her hands – as though attempting to hold her mind together. "I think I'm losing my fucking mind," she felt him sit beside her, "I've been lying to my best friend for... too long, I can barely control my own powers, I'm drinking as often as I can and on the _occasion_ I'm sober I crave a drink so badly it scares me." Peeking up at him, through her veil of hair, she continued on – voice getting smaller with each word. "and Bucky... he tried to kill me... he put a bullet in my femoral artery and tried to choke me to death."

Finally, words seemed to fail her and her mouth hung dumbly open as she sat, aimlessly staring ahead as tears tracked her cheeks. She felt an arm drape around her shoulder, a comforting gesture that was almost entirely ineffective. His indecisiveness was thick in the air, but she remained entirely silent - satisfied to allow someone else to choice between two shitty choices for once.

With a huff, his uncertain resolve became clear. "We don't have to tell him, not yet."

That was a surprise. Head jerking up, eyes widening as they surveyed his features, she opened her mouth to speak - words tumbling from her as she reeled from surprise. "Really?" She had expected his sense of loyalty to Steve to far outweigh any other factors but she didn't want to push him into changing his mind.

Leaning back, rubbing his tired eyes with his hand, he shrugged. "With Stark's latest screw up... now isn't a good time." Eyebrows pulling together, she glanced back at him – that couldn't be it. Seeing her expression, he glanced off to the side before finally explaining himself fully. "Now isn't a good time for you either, Lizzy."

Giving a chuckle, without much of an actual reason, she shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

A pointed look was thrown her way. "You really think seeing _him_ is good for you?" She stuttered over an answer but she wasn't sure what she had even been planning to say. "If you tell Steve, we'll drop everything and find him... I don't think that's gonna help you."

Eyebrows pulling together as she tried to understand, Elizabeth shook her head in denial once more. "But... but it's different now."

"How?"

Blanking, once more unsure how to reply, she scratched at her wrist. "What do you mean how?" Her tone sounded much smaller than she had anticipated.

"How is it different, Lizzy?" He asked, sitting forward. When she didn't hasten to reply, he pushed on, "he still tried to kill you," she cursed herself when her hand automatically raised to her neck – she doubted he missed the gesture. "And now, he's lied to you for how long? Lizzy, I know-"

Standing up, having had enough, she whirled on him. " _He_ is _not_ the problem!" He watched her in silence. "It's me, Sam! Okay? I fucked everything up all on my own."

He didn't say anything, he didn't have to - her sudden anger had just proved his point.

Whirling around once more, her hair whipping around her torso, she stalked through the door and down the corridor. Throwing her door open, she slammed it behind her – feeling anger and insanity boiling in her blood.

After merely standing, with clenched fists, in the center of the room failed to calm her, Elizabeth grabbed the shitty wooden chair from her desk and hurled it at the wall. The resulting dent she left in the drywall wasn't nearly as satisfying as it should have been and she used her power to break through the wall completely – revealing her bathroom on the other side.

Feeling a sudden, sharp and debilitating pain in her skull, Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and dropped to her knees. Squinting her eyes open, she felt her jaw drop at the scene around her. Everything was being destroyed; the sheets on her bed were being torn to pieces, the hanging light-bulbs overhead shattering, the window cracking and the desk beside her being splintered to pieces.

The destruction around her was accented by her shadowed power – she wasn't sure whether she was controlling it or not at this point. Blood was dripping from her nose, staining the carpet below her. With great effort, she pulled her power back to her – halting the destruction in its place.

Pulling at her hair, knelt alone in what remained of her room, she whispered sullenly to herself. "What the fuck is happening to me?"

* * *

 **Hey guys sorry about the long wait!**

 **I want to reassure you guys that while this chapter is really grim and sort of dark, the next chapter will be a little more light hearted. I think Lizzy just needed to vent to someone and she needed to get to a really low point before she can start moving forward.**

 **As usual, shoutouts to my awesome reviewers _Jag_ , _.2017_ and _17 Daybreak_ for your awesome reviews! Thanks to everyone who favourited and followed after last chapter!**

 **I'd love if you guys would leave a review with any thoughts, feelings, ideas, theories and questions you may have!**


	21. Chapter 21

"Where are you guys?" For the third time in a row, her frantic questioning was met with absolute silence. She had no fathomable idea what could have possibly happened to them all. She was fairly certain, and hopeful, that they were all alive still – having just recently seen Natasha slumped in a corner looking oddly off into space, but she could sense that something was wrong.

Currently hiding behind a wooden crate, crouching in an awkward position that was beginning to hurt her legs, Elizabeth tried to assess the situation. Considering their reputation as the world's saviors this entire spectacle was a complete embarrassment. The arrival of a pair of odd youngsters with unexpected abilities had seemed to render them all utterly useless – scattering all over the ship and completely out of sight of each-other. They were supposed to be professionals and they were all sent so easily scrambling – well, all except for her it seemed.

Maybe she could find a way to call back to the jet, she could at least ask Bruce if anyone had returned as of yet but she didn't like the idea of involving him anymore than was absolutely necessary. Besides, something strange was happening here and keeping him separate would likely serve everyone well.

How everything had escalated so very quickly she couldn't be sure – it seemed that in one moment they had all been enjoying a slightly over the top party and the next a killer robot created by Tony was threatening to end the world. Ultron was apparently its name, which was strange considering that it was nothing but a technological construct, and it had caused chaos. Having followed their new foe to Wakanda, a country which Elizabeth had never even heard of before, they had encountered more than they had bargained for. Who these powerful kids were, Elizabeth couldn't say – what she did know was that they were making everything much more difficult.

A soft, but unmistakable, footfall sounded behind her – pulling her back to the present. Being too entirely frustrated by the entire evening to even bother waiting for her assailant to make the first move, Elizabeth whirled and raised a fist in their general direction. Noticing that an arm had already been raised in her direction and, assuming it was carrying a weapon, Elizabeth quickly changed the course of her fist and instead caught the girl's wrist.

The girl's naturally wide eyes showed no change at Elizabeth's reaction, in fact she seemed to be quietly confident. Suspicion spawning, Elizabeth glanced to the girl's hand – that she was still currently holding. Her slender fingers were moving somewhat, her rings shining even in the low lights, manipulating a force that reminded Elizabeth of her own. Why exactly, she couldn't say.

The color was different, a startling scarlet instead of onyx black, and it seemed more ethereal than her own – less tangible somehow. Jerking back as the force came into contact with her temple, Elizabeth waited for something to happen. When nothing changed she refocused her eyes upon the girl before her, curiosity pulling at her now.

Something in the girl's eyes appeared expectant, as though something were supposed to happen – eventually her wide eyes narrowed, seeming to sense that something wasn't right. Another hand was quickly raised but Elizabeth didn't allow her to try again, quickly snatching the girl's thin wrist she jerked the girl and kicked out quickly at her ankles – causing her to lose balance and fall with a yelp of pain.

Belatedly, as a blur of motion and color swept her backwards, Elizabeth realized her mistake – there were two of these kids running around the ship. Careening backwards, her head smashed heavily into a steel structure behind her. Instantly, she felt overwhelmingly dizzy – as though the world had been inexplicably tilted all around her. Groaning, she lifted a hand to the back of her head and cursed when it came off slick with blood.

"Lizzy?" Whipping her head to the left, eager to find a familiar face, Elizabeth felt her whole world shift. Eyes losing focus and head feeling heavier than anything she could remember, she groaned again. "Okay, let's see." She still didn't know who that voice belonged to but she recognized it at least – the way he was speaking reminded her of a father checking on the child's scraped knee. Laughing quietly at her own thought process, Elizabeth once again attempted to lift her eyes.

"Looks like you might have to sit the rest of this one out, Lizzy." Her eyes, now refocused just enough to make out his features, told her that Clint was the one talking to her.

"What? No..." she told him, her words markedly slurred, "I'm fine." As she spoke she attempted to stand but the dizziness overtaking her head caused her to fall back weakly. "Fuck," she complained with obvious agitation.

Giving a chuckle as he knelt before her, Clint nodded and sent a cursory glance to their surroundings. "All these superpowers and I'm the last one standing."

Rolling her eyes, thus making her dizziness immeasurably worse, Elizabeth waved a weak hand. "Yeah, yeah, revel in it later."

Hearing him give a scoff, Elizabeth knelt her head back and shut her weary eyes. Without warning of any kind Elizabeth was being hauled to her feet, "c'mon, up you get." Grimacing as she was forced to stand, but thankful for Clint's support, she attempted a few steps forward.

After the first few steps, a question pulled at her mind. "Where are we going? Those kids are still out there?"

As usual, Clint seemed focused entirely on getting things done and, without pausing, he replied. "We're gonna get Nat and head back to the jet."

Pulling back from him, as much as her current state would allow, Elizabeth felt surprise tug at her. "What – Clint we can't, we've gotta stop Ultron... and the vibranium." She couldn't understand why Clint, of all people, was so eager to give up. He tended to keep going with a mission until there was absolutely no option other than success.

Encouraging her to keep moving, Clint quickly explained himself. "Lizzy, half the team's down; Thor, Steve, Nat – we've gotta quit while we're ahead."

"They're down?" Elizabeth asked quickly, not liking the somber way he said those words – wishing for him to clarify.

As they neared a set of steep stairs he explained himself further, "the girl, she did something to them."

Eyebrows knitting together, thinking of what the meek looking girl could possibly have done to have incapacitated Thor, Captain America and Black Widow, Elizabeth voiced her confusion. "What did she do?"

Casting her a cursory glance as they began their descent of the stairs, on the bottom of which Natasha sat despondently, he supplied her with the best explanation he could seem to muster. "Yeah, some sort of..." he trailed off, clearly not certain as to what it really was, "mind control?" He finished, clearly not sure of his response.

As they reached Natasha, Clint left Elizabeth to hold herself upright by the railings before heading to kneel before Natasha.

Her vision now much more focused, Elizabeth looked over Natasha's features. "What's wrong with her?" Why she was asking Clint all these questions she didn't know, he seemed equally as taken aback by the entire situation as she.

He didn't reply, merely watching Natasha as he attempted to work out the answer to her question.

"Her eyes, Clint, they're red." Considering how closely he currently was to Natasha she was sure he would have noticed, but she seemed unable to keep the startling revelation to herself.

There was a long moment of silence then as Clint seemed to be thinking over what he could possibly do. Elizabeth felt anxiety pulling at her, he had said that the same thing had happened to Steve and she had no idea where he was to try and help him.

 _"_ _Natasha, I could really use a lullaby."_ Tony's words in her ear snapped her from her reverie and she felt more dread pull at her as she realized that this must mean that Banner had 'gone green'. That was certainly the last thing they needed right now.

"That's not gonna happen." The sudden communication seemed to have pushed Clint into action as he looped Natasha's arm over his shoulder in order to get her moving. "Not for a while."

"Can you?" He asked, speaking to her, clearly asking her if she could walk unaided. Deciding that she might as well try, she shrugged and pushed off the railing. Her feet were clumsy in their movements but she seemed able to move without help. Nodding to Clint, as they made their way, she watched him speak over the radio once more. "The whole team is down. You got no back up here."

Tony was about to face off against the Hulk, with nothing but a suit of armor, the thought made her more than a little nervous. _"I'm calling in Veronica."_ That statement made her feel a little better about the prospect, but not massively so.

"Do you know where the others are?" She asked Clint, feeling as though she really should be doing more to help.

Grunting with the exertion of moving a mainly prone Natasha, Clint gave his best attempt at a reply. "Cap was somewhere on the lower decks and... I'm not sure about Thor."

Nodding, thinking through how best to sweep the lower decks for any sign of Steve, she muttered, "alright, I'm gonna find Steve."

Finally stopping in his relentless movement towards the exit, Clint looked back at her dubiously. "Lizzy," he began with something akin to exasperation, "you could barely even walk like... five minutes ago."

Nodding in agreement, but also enthusiastic to do something useful, Elizabeth quickly attempted to stem his concern. "Yeah I know but, honestly Clint, I feel fine," he still remained dubious and she didn't blame him; fine wasn't exactly what she was feeling. "You know I heal fast, besides it was only a hit to the head Clint – nothing as serious as this." She told him, gesturing to Natasha's current state.

Nodding, and glancing to Natasha, Clint moved towards her. "Okay Lizzy, you take Nat back to the jet and I'll find Cap."

It was half of what she had wanted, but she doubted he would allow her to look for Steve herself. Settling herself with the knowledge that this was likely the best he would allow her, she nodded – motioning to take hold of Natasha.

"Thanks, Clint." She told him, before turning from him and making her way to their now entirely abandoned jet.

The journey, although likely taking a long while in reality, felt as though it took no time at all. Elizabeth's mind was too full with worry and concern for Steve and Tony and Thor and Clint to take much note of the passing time – this threat had seemingly come out of nowhere but still seemed scarily adept at rendering them all entirely useless.

When they eventually reached the jet Elizabeth found the doors wide open, which she guessed wasn't surprising considering the fact that Bruce had gone green. Depositing Natasha upon a chair, relieved to finally be free of her weight, Elizabeth stood before her – considering her options. Elizabeth had never encountered something like this before, which considering her hefty lifespan was quite surprising, she couldn't conjure up any idea of how to possibly help. Swiftly deciding that there was really nothing she could possibly do to snap Natasha from her reverie, Elizabeth decided to check in on Clint.

"Clint, you okay?"

When his voice crackled in her ear, he sounded strained, hopefully indicating that he was now lumbered with Steve's weight. _"Yeah, I've got him."_ She felt relief at these words, and took a long calming breath as Clint paused to grunt once more. _"I'm coming back now, Thor's with me – he's a little out of it but he's walking at least."_ She nodded to herself, glad that Clint wasn't going to have to lug the hulking figure of Thor all the way back to the jet by himself. _"I'm almost there."_

"Okay," she responded, glancing nervously to Natasha. "What are we gonna do, Clint?" After a pause she pushed him, "where are we gonna go?"

After a moment of silence, he responded almost stoically. "I've got an idea."

* * *

"Hey, Stevie, you okay?" He didn't seem to hear her, his eyes still markedly distant. Biting her lip she leaned closer to him, eyes darting over his features as her mind filled with worry.

They were all, somehow, back safely upon the jet – travelling to wherever it was that Clint had thought to take them. Maria Hill's voice was reverberating through the jet but Elizabeth paid her echoing words no mind, focusing solely on the man before her.

"Steve?" At his lack of response to her now timid voice, she tried something else. Raising her hand and pushing his hair away from his face, she watched as he seemed to suddenly notice her presence. As he turned, almost with surprise, to look upon her, she smiled faintly – glad to see that he was still somewhat aware of what was happening around him.

"Lizzy?" He asked, appearing to be more than pleased to see her.

"Hey, Stevie." She greeted him once more, glad that he was finally seeing her. "What happened?" Her question was asked softly, carefully.

He seemed unable to answer, his mouth opening but his mind not forming the words to describe what had happened – what he had seen. Understanding that the words had not come to him yet, and may not for a long while, Elizabeth merely nodded before standing fully and pulling his seated figure into an embrace. Rubbing his back, in an attempt to be soothing, Elizabeth whispered "it's okay, Steve."

She felt him nod against her and she smiled, thankful that he seemed to accept her care.

* * *

Sitting in the dark, on a creaky chair in Clint's kitchen, Elizabeth thought over the revelations that the last few hours and days had brought her.

The house itself was lovely, homely – something to be enviable of, but its very existence was almost impossible to accept. It seemed so strange, to her, that it had been made possible for Clint to have such a mundane, enviably average, life alongside his work with the Avengers. But somehow, he was managing it. Elizabeth had always considered that she would never be able to have such a quiet second life, at least not until the Avengers were no longer needed – something she had always doubted would ever come to be.

And so, she wondered, was it really her position as an Avenger that was continually holding her back from the type of mundane life she now so desired? Or was it just her? If Clint could manage to balance both, fairly successfully from the looks of it, then surely so could she.

Thinking of it now it all seemed so simple and, thus, Elizabeth was caught in a dilemma. As much as she often idealistically dreamed of this kind of simple life, she couldn't be sure that it was really truly something that she wanted. Or at least, she knew the life she was dreaming of was one she could never have – not anymore.

As much as she had wanted the picket fence and the kids and the dog, the person she had always wanted them with was gone. _Well_ , she reasoned _, not gone._ But so much had happened, to the both of them, and she knew now that she wasn't the same and that she never could or would be again.

Sam's words, warning her from Bucky, were seemingly constantly resonating through her head. Considering how anxious and scattered her mind had felt when she had been with him, she knew Sam had a point – but how much did she really care?

One thing that she was sure of, was that she was angry – furious even. The more time that had passed since his confession, the more her anger had compounded. _Why lie to her? Why tell her at that moment, after she had already left him? Why? Why? Why?_ She didn't understand any of it.

And those questions were only a portion of the ones racing through her disquiet mind. Sleep was out of the question.

"Lizzy?" Turning slowly in her chair, she watched him enter. She didn't need to flip the lights on to know it was Steve, having been sat there for hours now her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He moved slowly, measuredly, and sat before her – elbows resting lightly upon the table top. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked her quietly.

Sighing, she shook her head. "Didn't bother trying," she supplied. Nodding, seeming to understand, he glanced around the dark kitchen for a long moment. "Are you okay?" She asked meekly.

Giving a sigh of his own, he squared his shoulders and nodded. "What I saw..." She didn't push him for more information, he would tell her if he needed to. "Fighting's never far away," she nodded somberly, "we've gotta be the one's fighting, Lizzy."

She hummed in response, not sure how she really felt about that but agreeing with the sentiment regardless.

They sat in silence for a long while then but, for the first time in months, it was a comfortable moment. There was no underlying tenseness held there and no unuttered thoughts hassling either of them – they simply enjoyed the other's familiar company.

Finally, a thought did spring forth in her mind. "Steve?" She whispered his name, almost afraid of shattering the serene silence they had managed to procure.

Looking up smoothly, seeming unsurprised by her sudden speech, he prompted "yeah?"

"Can I..." He leaned forward at her hesitation, earnest eyes telling her that whatever she needed to say he would listen. "Can I ask you something?" Nodding wordlessly, he waited patiently for her to continue. Thankful for his patience, needing some time to think over what she wanted to say, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her still figure. "What are we gonna do when we... if we find Bucky?"

From the way his eyebrows scrunched together and the sudden movement as he sat back entirely – back resting heavily upon the wooden chair – she could tell he was taken aback. It took him a moment to answer, "you don't want to find him?"

Mouth opening to reply, not really sure how to answer that question considering how conflicted she suddenly felt about the whole thing, Elizabeth chose to answer as honestly as she could. "I mean... I do... but what happens when we find him?"

Shrugging, clearly having been so intent on finding their friend that he hadn't considered what would happen after. "It doesn't matter, Lizzy, he's our friend."

Nodding emphatically, she laid her hands flat on the table before her. "I know that, Steve, it's just... he's the Winter Soldier..." Eyebrows raising, he gave her a quizzical but almost accusatory glance. Holding her hands up defensively, she continued before he could remark, "Look I know that that's not all he is to us," she began, gesturing between the two of them, "but that's not how the rest of the world sees him."

Eyes cast downwards, Steve nodded somberly. "Yeah, but Lizzy, we gotta find him." Now looking her dead in the eye, he gave her a statement "Before someone else does."

Tapping her fingers upon the table, Elizabeth nodded. "Mm, but don't you think our... being there is gonna make him easier to find." She couldn't quite employ the example of when Bucky had literally been used as bait to catch her but she was sure she was getting her point across regardless. "We're kinda famous remember?"

Sharing a distant laugh with her, he nodded.

"I'm not saying we shouldn't try and find him, Steve. It's just... we need to figure out what we're gonna do _if_ we find him."

"Well," he began, giving a cursory glance around the kitchen, "we... make sure he's okay."

Eyebrows pulling together, she sighed – now scratching at the surface of the table. "Yeah but I don't think either of us would be happy just... leaving him once we've found him." His lips were twisting as he considered her words, he seemed to understand, finally, why she was having such difficulty with the concept of finding him. "But equally, Steve, we can't be... Avengers alongside... helping him out." After a long, contemplative silence, she added earnestly "I want this to work... us finding him, I really _really_ do but... we've not thought about it enough."

He nodded, accepting her words without looking to her. "I know, Lizzy... I know. But... he's our friend – that other stuff; we'll find a way to deal with it." Twisting her lips with dissatisfaction, Elizabeth deliberated his words. "We always have."

He was right, she knew, they always had found their way through. Maybe there really _was_ something else holding her back.

"We'll find him, Lizzy."

Breaking from her pensive stare towards the table, Elizabeth looked up at him and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know." She was very afraid of what would happen when they did.

* * *

 **Hey guys!**

 **Sorry it's been so long but life got so busy for a few months there haha - there's no promise of regular updates but there will definitely be updates!**

 **A huge thank you to all my reviewers for last chapter (BeccaSco, Sammycalcon, .2018, 17 Daybreak and Jag), you guys are all awesome! And in reply to Sammycalcon; I promise she's getting there haha, Lizzy is nothing if not stubborn - but it shouldn't be too long until she comes around.**

 **Now a little word about the chapter and where the story is going now. While the AOU storyline isn't particularly necessary to the plot of my story I feel firstly as though it would be difficult to merely skim over it and that secondly it presents some interesting points to explore in relation to Lizzy and the other Avengers. Unlike CA:TWS I won't be following the entire storyline of AOU and there will likely be at the most two more chapters surrounding this movie until Lizzy's individual story really starts off again. And, while there's none of him in this chapter, there will be at least a little of Bucky in the next chapter!**

 **Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I'd massively appreciate a review, a favorite or a follow!**


	22. Chapter 22

The television crackled in the background as he shuffled from the cramped bathroom, toweling his wet hair. The smart thing to do would be to turn it off when he wasn't watching it, thus ensuring that he would be able to hear the sounds of anyone attempting to break in, but somehow the droning sound of people talking on the television served as a calming background noise. Sometimes silence seemed too unnerving to bear; every slight sound can drive you mad with its disastrous possibility.

Bucky moved over to the window, the darkness of his small apartment allowing the lights of the city to bathe him in an artificial glow. After Lizzy had left him in Bratislava he hadn't _wanted_ to leave but, considering how close he had come to being discovered there, he knew it was past time to move on. He had already stayed there for far too long, enjoying the stability of being able to linger in a place for more than a few weeks. The desire to stay had been great; how was Lizzy supposed to find him if he moved away?

 _Would she have come to find him?_

He couldn't know. Before the line had been cut she had asked him where he was and he hoped that had meant she would come to him but she could easily have just wanted to make sure he hadn't stayed in Bratislava. Thoughts of that phone call quickly brought about thoughts of what had happened afterwards. Watching her on the news, watching a power he had never known her to possess prove to be so dangerous and destructive, had a strange effect on him.

Of course he felt fear for her present situation, she had been in such danger then – it was all he could focus on - and with the media being alight with tales of the Avengers' newest robotic opponent he felt validated in this fear. But, when the reports finally came in that she had survived the fall, he began to feel another fear; more akin to dread than anything else. Something within her had fundamentally changed, and he somehow found it doubtful that she even understood it herself, but it was definitely an indicator of her future, of something she was becoming. Knowing Lizzy like he did, however, he found it doubtful that she would confront the issue head on - she usually refused to face these things altogether. At least, that was how he remembered her.

Moving from the window, having grown tired of both the artificial lights and the freedom the view gave him to think, he closed the blinds and made his way to the sofa. Slumping down into the unreasonably hard couch cushions he lazily turned his attention to the television before him. He watched the channel for a few moments, having had the same channel playing in the background for the past several hours, but quickly changed it as the music proved to be unbearably modern.

Hopping between channels he couldn't help but marvel at how much entertainment was readily available to anybody in the modern world. To begin with, he had thought it would be impossible to get bored in this age of technology and internet, but it quickly became clear to him that much of the content available nowadays could barely be classed as entertainment. He remembered a time when a TV was a luxury only few could afford and most had filled their days in other ways. Those hazy summer days when he would roam the outdoors with Steve and Lizzy for hours on end seemed far superior to a day shut up indoors, with nothing but a droning television for company, although he supposed times had changed. _Maybe this is what Lizzy enjoys now_ , he wondered, thinking of how much more adapted to this modern life she must be than him. He doubted Steve was very well adjusted either, considering he had so suddenly found himself in the modern era, but he supposed Lizzy would have helped him adjust.

He didn't keep track of how long he sat there, mindlessly pressing buttons on the remote. Despite its dullness he did find a kind of peace when doing this, something he struggled to find when sleeping, as his brain quieted down as the lights and sounds distracted it effortlessly. Many a night he had awoken to find himself slumped on the sofa, television blaring in the background, as the remote slipped from his hand.

With heavy eyes he continued flipping through the channels but, just as sleep was beginning to cloud his mind, the images on the screen began showing what seemed to be a disaster. In his foggy state of mind it took him far too long to work out that what he was seeing was not a fantastical story made simply for entertainment, it was a horrible reality. The tagline at the bottom read 'Avengers in danger?' and the images he was seeing appeared to provide an answer to that question; _yes, yes they were._

What looked to be a whole city was hanging in mid-air – no, _ascending_ further into the sky - and even from the great distance at which the event was being filmed he could make out figures still on the surface. The broadcaster reliably informed the audience that the Avengers were upon the floating city, and doing their best to remedy the situation. That much he could have worked out for himself, _but what was happening?_ The last he had heard they were merely _concerned_ about a robot gone haywire, a simple misadventure in AI, but now there was an entire city being jettisoned into space and a whole army of robots bearing down on them. It appeared things had escalated dramatically from the previous day.

He couldn't blame the crew of the news helicopter for not wanting to fly any closer to the floating destruction, but the shaky and unclear view of this island in the sky frustrated him entirely. Eyes squinting, despite knowing that it would do little to help him see, his eyes focused on a small black dot moving on the island. _Maybe that was Lizzy,_ he wondered, despite there being several other black dots zipping about upon the surface.

Sitting forward, practically falling off the sofa with how close to the edge he sat, he squinted uselessly – aiming to gain any other information about the situation. Lizzy was definitely there, grandiose wisps of her black smoke were clearly visible throughout the floating island and the power only seemed to increase in magnitude as time ticked by. Gnawing at his fingernails without noticing, he felt worry picking at him; surely she was using too much power. If she overworked herself and passed out in the scenario before him, as she had in that alleyway just days prior, she would leave herself far too vulnerable – he attempted to settle himself with the knowledge that Steve was there to cover her back.

After another half hour of fixated viewing the camera angle switched to something much closer – _someone in the news office was clearly aiming for a raise_ – giving him a much needed and much improved view of the individuals on the surface. Whilst there was a cluster of people that he did not recognize immediately, despite having a fleeting knowledge of who they must be, his eyes were instantly drawn to the only two people in the world that he really knew. They seemed the only two not fighting, huddled in the middle of the group surrounding them. Power was slipping through Lizzy's fingertips and dancing along her entire figure, surrounding her in an aura of black shadows almost, as she spoke with Steve. Her expression was stoic and otherworldly, as she regarded him almost emotionlessly, glowing white eyes fixed steadily upon the man before her. Steve on the other hand was clearly distressed, speaking animatedly even as she appeared to speak over him, gesturing wildly with his hands and even being pushed away by sinewy shadows when he attempted to touch her.

The Iron Man, pulled at Steve as the rest of the group began to disperse, eventually breaking him away from her and pulling him to the edge of the island. The group seemed to melt away from around her, as they bolted to the safety of the ships waiting for them in the sky. Bucky barely had time to process his anger at them leaving her as the ships began pulling away, leaving her there alone, and his anger turned to fury. She appeared to be facing down an army of thousands, albeit calmly, and nobody had stayed to back her up – nobody had even tried to pull her away. His fingernails dug into the skin of his palm as he clenched his fists, _if only he had been there._

Just as he began considering hauling his television out of the window, he watched her visage float into the air. She did not ascend far, only a few meters off the ground at most, but it was enough to grasp his attention. This was beginning to remind him of the last time he had seen her on television, and he felt a nervousness reawaken within him; _was she still the one in control here?_ Her power seemed to pulse even more around her, as though it were now a tangible part of her physical self – an extension of her body, and his instincts were pulling at him telling him that the image before him oozed danger. In the blink of an eye the power burst forth from her, ripping through everything in a growing sphere of destruction. Of which, she was the very center. Houses, cars and robots alike disappeared into nothing but dust as the power washed over them, as though her shadows were erasing things from existence with a simple touch. It was barely reminiscent of destruction, the process so clean and leaving nothing of note behind; erasure was the simplest description he could fathom.

The sphere of shadow stretched further and further along the floating island, until it had been swallowed whole by the darkness, but the shadows did not stop. The sphere grew and grew appearing to double in size with each passing second and Bucky was beginning to think it would not stop until it had swallowed the whole world; erased the entire universe. But, as quickly as it had begun the sphere sprang back to its center point, to Lizzy. Her hair was floating on the air as she hung effortlessly there – like some goddess of destruction surveying the land before she erased it forever. Nothing of the island remained, even the dust it had become had seemed to disappear into nothingness.

Everything was silent then, no broadcasters seemed to dare speak as she hovered there, arms outstretched at either side – power seeming to flow back into her open palms. Even the world outside of his apartment had seemed to slow to a stop as though the entire world were holding its breath waiting for what she would do next.

And then, she fell.

And the world burst back into noise, smothering him.

* * *

"Stevie," she began, her voice too calm considering their predicament – he almost wished she sounded as frazzled as he did, "you have to trust me."

He did, he trusted her entirely – more than anyone he had ever met. But what she was asking of him, leaving her behind to face these technological monsters alone, was too much. They were a team, always had been, and he had promised himself he would never leave her to face something alone. "Lizzy, I- I can't-"

She gripped his arm, squeezing his bicep lightly, attempting to reassure but failing dramatically. "You have to, Steve – I can't explain it," her white eyes were beginning to dart nervously to the others surrounding them, covering them as they had this conversation, "but I know this is what I have to do."

"Lizzy-" he began, with no real plan as to what he would say, what he even could say. He had little time to make this decision, their situation becoming more perilous with each passing second – even with the added help of the God of Thunder and Vision – and he needed to think of something fast. But, as his eyes darted frantically across his surroundings, he was quickly realizing that the only viable plan of action was the one she was currently presenting him with.

"It's okay, Stevie." Taking a breath and swallowing thickly, feeling dread settle over him as he realized what he needed to do, he nodded sternly.

"Everyone," he began, voice returning to his usual commanding timbre, "fall back." The others seemed unsure but trusted him enough to follow his command regardless, as they began to move away from his position. They fell away slowly, still in the midst of fighting as they did so, and each parting with one last nervous glance to Lizzy. Clint and Natasha left as a pair, fighting almost back to back as they did so, while Hulk thundered away leaving heavy footprints in his wake. Thor stepped forwards wishing Lizzy luck, with warmth coating each word, before flying away. Wanda seemed more reluctant than the rest, still shaken and full of rage after the death of her brother, but seemed to realize that rebelling against his orders would get her nowhere.

In his concentration on what his team were doing, he seemed to have forgotten to move himself – still intently eyeing Lizzy. A hand on his shoulder made him jump, but looking back he found it was Tony, gently ushering him away. "Be careful, Liz." Tony's emotion was somewhat masked by the robotic voice his suit provided but Steve could still sense it. Steve turned back to Lizzy, giving her nothing but a nod as he knew they were not deigned with the time for him to tell her everything he would have wished to. Turning from her, gritting his teeth as the action felt so entirely wrong he could barely complete it, he made his way to the helicarriers with Tony watching his back.

* * *

Elizabeth held herself back just long enough to watch Steve and the others escape the floating island, keeping the seemingly endless army of robots at bay long enough to allow them to escape. She was beginning to struggle holding her power back, sensing it building inside her – fighting to escape – but as she watched the helicarrier back away Elizabeth let go of her restraint.

The last time this had happened, she hadn't been the one in control – had not even been aware – but this time she knew exactly what was happening. This time she was allowing it to happen, facilitating her power instead of fighting uselessly against it – this time _she_ was the one in control.

As the power expelled from her in each direction she felt herself raising from the ground, or perhaps that was merely the ground beneath her disappearing into a fine dust, leaving her hovering there. Every unfortunate building, robot and inch of land that became encompassed by her power was reduced to nothing but a lifeless grey dust. She could feel every inch of metal, stone and dirt that her power consumed – feeling the destruction piling up around her. It was power, _pure power_ , and it was addicting.

She needed to pull back soon, the floating island had already been entirely erased and it was doubtful any Ultron bots had survived, if she didn't stop soon the helicarriers holding her friends would be engulfed next. Gritting her teeth, using every ounce of strength she could summon, Elizabeth heaved her power back in. It seemed an impossible task, folding that much raw power back inside her small body, but she _knew_ she could contain it – this power had lived within her for decades after all. This was _hers_ and she _was_ going to control it. Through what seemed to be pure determination, her power returned to her – disappearing idle beneath her skin once more.

As the world revealed itself in the wake of her shadows, it seemed peaceful – almost as though a storm had recently rolled through leaving nothing but calm winds in its wake. The island was gone, the destruction upon it nowhere to be found, with even the dust having disappeared upon the wind. Despite knowing what this would mean, the speculations the world would surely make about her now and the fear she had likely awoken in many, Elizabeth felt something akin to pride. The world was saved, and while many wouldn't see it so positively, she knew what she had done – and _she_ had done it, the power hadn't acted of its own volition, she had _controlled_ it.

Allowing the positivity to wash over her, ignoring the nagging negativity pulling at the back of her mind, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall.

* * *

 **Hey guys, long long wait I know and I'm reallly sorry! I've had a really difficult few months and my motivation to do literally anything including write was like zero. I won't get into it but I'm back now and my motivation is 100% flowing! I got a little stuck too trying to move this story forward from where it was at with AOU and so here I've decided to finish AOU and just quickly get back to what we're all here for! Also, I know this chapter isn't necessarily the greatest in terms of story but it is a little bit of course correction to get back on track!**

 **So the next chapter should be up fairly soon, life does get busy so maybe not immediately, but the wait certainly should not be as long as this one! I'm aiming to update again within two weeks so fingers crossed!**

 **Also, as per usual thanks to my lovely reviewer _17 Daybreak,_ it was so lovely to get a great review even after the ridiculous wait I put you guys through! **

**So please leave a review with any questions, theories, thoughts or ideas or where you wanna see the story go! (I'm sure they'll motivate me to update faster ;))**

 **Until next time, bye guys.**


	23. Chapter 23

"Sure Liz's gonna be thrilled to wake up with us all here..." Tony's sardonic tone rang through her psyche as she blearily awakened, "maybe take a step back there big guy." Shifting awkwardly, feeling soft fabric grazing over her skin and a warm pillow beneath her head, Elizabeth blinked awkwardly against the harsh lights.

"Elizabeth!" As her eyes slowly adjusted, Lizzy looked to Thor and noted that he hadn't taken Tony's advice of giving her a little space. As her eyes flickered further around her surroundings she realized that no one had seemed to heed his advice; Thor, Steve, Clint and even Natasha were huddled around her prone figure whilst Tony stood slightly further back watching them all with something akin to exasperation. Thor's large hand tousled her hair as though she were a small child as she sat up slightly, body resting upon her elbows, and grinned down at her. "The second strongest Avenger has awoken," he proclaimed loudly, addressing her with their running joke of rankings, as though narrating her life, "Stark come see."

Tony raised a solitary eyebrow and heaved a sigh, a half smirk pulling at his lips as he nodded ruefully. "My eyes do appear to be working," he replied, fixing his eyes on her, "and, _wow_ , they are good because I can see Liz from _all_ the way over here." She sniggered at his sarcastic comment, appearing to be the only one to catch his tone as he rolled his eyes dramatically at her.

"Wait," Clint chimed in, leaning back just slightly and looking to Thor, " _second_ strongest? Lizzy just leveled a city I think she gets the title."

"and, defeated Ultron alone." Natasha chimed in, shooting her a half smile and a wink.

Thor furrowed his brows and practically pouted at them, "I could have done that." His tone was that of a defensive child and Lizzy giggled drawing his attention to her, "I could have." He told her with a smirk, "I merely thought it would be fair to allow others a chance at glory."

"Well, buddy," Clint began, placing a hand on Thor's shoulder, " _you_ _didn't_ and Lizzy gets the title." Elizabeth didn't really think she deserved the title, considering the fact that she doubted she would be able to consume a whole city again with a click of her fingers, but she accepted it regardless.

"Do I get special perks now? Like an extra vacation day or something?" She asked, her voice still a little thick from sleep.

"Sure," Tony began, finally stepping forward from leaning on the wall, "you get one now instead of none, congrats."

She gave a laugh then, smirking as she glanced to her friends surrounding her. They seemed so pleased to see her, especially considering the way they had crowded around her like an overzealous entourage, it made her heart swell with appreciation for them. After what had happened she had expected them to be more reserved and distant, scared of what she could do, but it hadn't appeared to have phased them. She supposed she shouldn't really be all that surprised. They were the avengers; they had experienced crazy, scary, unexplainable things before, this wouldn't be all that shocking. Plus, they were her friends, they weren't about to cast her out for being too destructive.

"This demotion wounds me," Thor spoke theatrically and Elizabeth could hardly tell if he were being serious or not.

"Don't worry, Thor, you're still the handsomest." Her smirk grew into a smile as she watched him laugh heartily in appreciation at her words.

"I'm not sure handsomest is a word, Liz."

She looked to Tony then, a pout upon her lips. "Jealous," she labelled him, allowing another grin to crack through.

Ruefully shaking his head, Tony smirked before speaking in his usual sarcastic tone. "Alright children that's enough Lizzy time for today, everyone out." Elizabeth grit her teeth at these words, if he was emptying the room that clearly meant it was time to talk – _how_ _wonderful_.

The group filed out, an odd comment passing between them here and there keeping their light-hearted atmosphere alive, and soon she was left with only Tony and Steve. Feeling a little like an unruly child about to be reprimanded by her parents, Elizabeth felt her shoulders drop slightly as she looked between the men and moved to stand up.

As she caught Steve's eye however, she realized his stature wasn't angry or concerned as she had expected him to be, his face showed nothing but relief. And, as she finally stood upright from the bed, Elizabeth was swallowed up by his embrace. "Woah, Stevie..." she muttered into his shoulder as he caught her off guard. Curling her own arms around him, rubbing his back to reassure, Elizabeth smiled into his shoulder.

Having not said anything for the entire time she had been awake, merely sitting back and letting the others joke with their light mood, Steve looked ready to burst when she pulled away from his embrace. "Thank god you're okay, Lizzy." The words rushed from him so quickly they almost became jumbled together in an incoherent mess. "I thought..." as he trailed off his eyes looked to the floor unseeingly and a hand rubbed at his pinched eyebrows, "I didn't know what to think."

Trying to put herself in his shoes, to imagine what it would have been like having to leave him on that floating city, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a little guilty. "You did the right thing, Stevie," she told him, a hand on his shoulder as she tried to catch his gaze, "I'm glad you're okay too." As she spoke she looked him over, finding him relatively unharmed save for a few scrapes and bruises here and there, if anything he looked more exhausted than hurt.

When he met her gaze once more she could see his mind ticking over something tirelessly and she allowed him time to think. Eventually nodding, he pulled her back in for another quick hug, as though he needed reassurance that she was really there. "Don't do that again, Lizzy."

Smiling a little bashfully, a little uncomfortable with the fuss being made of her, she nodded. "I don't think I could if I tried, Cap."

"Hey," he began, a mock stern tone taking over his voice, as he pointed an accusatory finger in her direction. "Call me Stevie."

Now that really did make her smile. "Got it," she replied, a lazy hand thrown up in a mock salute.

Steve was such a good man, she mused, he didn't deserve the trials the world seemed to constantly throw at him. And yet, he endured them all with the same modest nobility and absolute moral standard. An uneasiness settled in Elizabeth then, knowing what she was keeping from him was likely to only cause more trouble for him to endure – she wasn't sure he would be so forgiving when it came to her lies about Bucky, however.

"My turn yet?" Tony's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she smiled at him – silently thankful for the distraction.

His embrace was swifter than Steve's, as he placed a single arm around her back and used the other hand to ruffle her hair. Huffing indignantly at the action, guessing her hair was likely messy enough already, Elizabeth lightly pushed him away. Smirking at her annoyance, he stood up straight and pulled a small electronic device from his pocket. "Time to talk science, Liz."

Feeling an eyebrow raise Elizabeth stepped forward to watch as he tapped numbers into the device. "Science?" Her question was answered as Tony swiped the screen, bringing a screen of information before them from seemingly thin air. "Oh, science," she muttered, watching the figure she guessed corresponded to her heart rate remain steady.

"We don't know much at all about your power, Lizzy," Tony began, stepping forward and swiping his hand over a thumbnail image of her upon the floating island. "And this is evidence enough that we need to learn," as he spoke the image turned into a large video of her power destroying the island, "and we gotta learn fast."

Feeling her eyebrows pulling together, only partially understanding his reasoning for this assumption, Elizabeth looked to him. Concern was etching its way upon his features and she recognized the intent to fix something gleaming in his eye – she guessed that something was her this time. "I controlled that, Tony." Her matter of fact answer didn't seem to abate whatever fears he had conjured up.

"Did you know you could do that, Lizzy?" The silence she greeted that question with was answer enough. "You even admitted you wouldn't be able to do it again so you clearly don't have _that_ _much_ control over it," his words were more than dampening her mood, "this is _dangerous_ , Liz."

"I know that," she indignantly responded, arms folded over her chest as she took a step back.

"Do you?"

Steve stepped forward then, sensing the pair of them were going to get nowhere at this rate. "What are you saying, Tony?"

Letting the video file disappear from the screen, Tony's eyes flickered across the numbers aimlessly as he thought through his answer. Nervousness folded into her at this, Tony wasn't the type to think before he spoke and the fact that he was considering his words this much indicated his response was going to be something she did _not_ appreciate.

Finally he turned to her, an almost guilty expression pulling at the resolve in his eyes. "We need to control it," her heckles rose as she thought over what type of control he was suggesting, "at least until we understand it." He added the last part quickly, an attempt at reassurance as he took in her expression.

"How?" She asked bitterly, knowing there were few ways to control her power and not liking any of them.

He looked to the hovering screens then, considering his options, before looking to his feet and pulling two small objects from his pocket; neither any larger than a coin. Balancing the objects on the tips of his fingers, he held them out for her to see. Stepping forward, Elizabeth took the objects from his hand. Glancing down to them, she realized what they were; there was likely a technical term for them but she only knew them as the devices that shot electricity into her brain. Hurt pulled at her as she realized Tony had been researching into this, wasting technology on the devices that would cause her so much pain. Elizabeth felt her lips pull down in something akin to a grimace, as she glanced up and threw them right back into his face.

"Fuck you, Tony."

"Liz," he held out a staying hand as she made to barge past him but she quickly slapped his hand away as she stormed from the room.

Just before the door slammed behind her she heard Steve speaking in a low tone to Tony. _He better not be agreeing with him_ , Elizabeth thought spitefully. The oppressive air of the previous room dissipated the moment she stepped from the room and she instantly felt more relaxed, if still a little rattled.

Whilst she had expected this kind of suspicion surrounding her now, she hadn't expected so much of it from the people so close to her. In the past Tony had always been a little curious concerning her powers, just like his father had been, but that was different. With everything that had happened in recent months; with Ultron just recently and learning the truth about his parents, she understood why stress was taking its toll. She could understand his need to ensure safety at all costs but she had expected him to have a little more faith in her.

"Elizabeth." A familiar jovial voice sprung her from her thoughts as she glanced up to see Thor come quickly closer. She felt an uncharacteristic giggle spring from her lips as he engulfed her in a hug, lifting her from the ground as he did so – her toes skimming the floor. When he finally placed her back on her feet he allowed his hands to remain upon her arms as he looked down to her with a smile. "I was hoping to see you before I left."

Eyebrows scrunching together, she cocked her head at him. "Where you going?"

"The vision I was given on the boat showed me something amiss in the universe." Thor gave a small smile then, "as the future king of Asgard it is my duty to protect my people."

Coyly smiling up at him, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Need a hand up there?" She asked, glancing quickly to the door behind her, "might be nice to go on some kinda vacation... in space," she finished with a short laugh; realizing how ridiculous that sentence seemed.

His eyes flickered behind her at the sound of the door opening lightly, she guessed he was looking to Steve as Tony was more likely to merely interrupt her conversation to complain at her some more than stand in silence.

"Your company would be very welcome but," his eyes finally drifted back to hers then, "it would be best you remain here."

She nodded, not having really been serious about escaping to space with him – having never actually left the planet before and finding the concept a little disconcerting. "Well, bring me a souvenir."

He made a noise of recognition then, his hand moving to the back pocket of his painfully ordinary black jeans, before he held what looked to be a bracelet out to her. "This is for you," he began as he took hold of her right hand and began stretching the bracelet over it, "traditionally these were given to the Valkyrie, the fiercest warriors in Asgard, and you are the fiercest warrior I know."

If she were honest, she were a little taken aback as he held her hand between his with the most earnest expression she had ever seen shining in his eyes. "Er, wow... thanks, Thor." The bracelet was a dark blue in color, made up of several lengths of fabric wound tightly around each-other and each piece culminated in a dark metallic clasp that sat just above her pulse.

Gently turning her hand over, bringing the clasp into her view, he placed his finger on her wrist just above the clasp – bringing her attention to a white runic mark on the metal clasp. It looked to be a roughly sketched out rune consisting of straight white lines crossing jaggedly over one another. "This marking lets you communicate with me for a small while, if you ever require my help merely place your hand over this marking and speak." Taking hold of her other hand he placed her palm over the rune, demonstrating, "and I shall hear you."

If she were taken aback by the gesture before she was completely blown away now. "I... I really don't know what to say." Blinking dumbly as she stared down at the bracelet she slowly worked out at least one thing she should probably say before he left. "Oh!" She began, surprised she had managed to forget, "thank you, I should say that at least."

Moving away from her, letting her hands drop from his grasp, he looked to Steve behind her. "Now, I must go." He moved to wield his hammer, as though to fly straight through the ceiling, before Steve jumped out from behind her to stop him.

"Whoa there, Thor," he began, placing a staying hand on the god's shoulder, "don't think Tony'd be too pleased about you blasting a hole in the ceiling."

Looking to Steve and laughing, as though a hole in the ceiling were nothing more than a trivial matter, he nodded and turned to leave the building before blasting off to space. Following behind him, Elizabeth fell into step beside Steve.

They walked silently for the most part, Steve making the occasional comment regarding the dodgy physics of the hammer; clearly desperate to find some flaw in the logic. In Elizabeth's opinion he was merely bitter he couldn't lift it himself although she did believe that if anyone else in the world were ever to be deemed worthy it would be Steve. She knew Steve was waiting for Thor to leave before saying whatever it was on his mind, and she knew there was something on his mind – it was obvious in the way his eyes kept not so subtly glancing to her.

Eventually reaching the grassy outdoors, Elizabeth lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun – having only woken recently her eyes were still a little sensitive, Thor turned back to the pair of them. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" Steve's tone was a little resigned, but he attempted to convince the god regardless.

"There are things that require my attention," he spoke solemnly, truly sorry he had to leave them, "but Lady Elizabeth will be able to reach me should you require my assistance."

With a blinding flash of lightning he had changed his clothes and Elizabeth marveled at the magic as she watched the deep red cloth of his cape wave with the wind. "Good luck, Thor."

Giving her a nod, he watched her with a conflicted expression before glancing quickly to Steve beside her and taking a small step closer. Speaking in a hushed tone, he quickly disclosed; "your power, Elizabeth, is stronger than you know." Never before had she heard the god sound so serious and somber.

Eyebrows pulling together Elizabeth tried to make sense of his words. "Wait, wha-"

"Steve," he spoke with a nod, before turning to her with another nod, "Elizabeth." And with that, he was gone in a wild flurry of color and magic.

Staring at the scorched Earth left behind, Elizabeth considered calling him back merely to question him some more, but she doubted he would appreciate her wasting his gift like that. "You know what he meant by that, Lizzy?"

Turning to Steve, seeing his features holding an expression of concerned confusion similar to her own, she shook her head slowly. "No idea."

They both remained silent for a long moment, both lost within their own heads trying to find some semblance of sense in the god's parting words. Eventually realizing that she had no answers to provide either of them with, she pulled herself away from her thoughts and turned to Steve with an almost genuine smile.

Noticing her change in demeanor he turned towards her, his own expression slipping into one of ease. Glancing down to the bracelet adorning her wrist, he nudged her shoulder teasingly. "Pretty thoughtful gift there."

Rolling her eyes at his tone, sensing he was desperate to learn more about her relationship with the god but was attempting some subtlety, she replied offhandedly; "one step closer to Mrs Thor." Her dry tone was clearly indicative of a joke but Steve seemed not to take notice of it.

Shifting on his feet, hands slipping into his pockets, he ducked his head and spoke almost timidly. "You're not really... interested in Thor are you?"

Raising her eyebrows, slightly concerned at Steve's priorities considering that this was his very first question for her, she glanced to his face and shrugged. "And if I am?"

Steve's mouth fell open as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, as though he had not expected the answer she had provided and was entirely unsure as to what to say. Elizabeth kept her face stoic despite the mirth she were feeling inside, keeping up the pretense, if only to find out why Steve cared _so_ very much about her love life. If she were honest with herself she knew why but simply wondered if he would admit it.

"Well," he began a little disjointedly, having mostly recovered himself, "I mean, if you – you want."

Laughing then, unable to hold it in, Elizabeth gawked at him and his uncharacteristically bumbling words. "Stevie, relax." She told him, watching as he awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck. "I'm not interested in Thor – as much as being a queen would suit me –"

"Of course," he added a little too sarcastically in her opinion.

"but Stevie, why would it matter?" He looked at her a little guiltily then, "you get on with Thor don't you? He's fun, right?" He continued to be silent then, nodding along agreeably to what she was saying but still not admitting his reasoning. Heaving a deep sigh, feeling her mirth fading, Elizabeth looked him in the eye and acknowledging the reason for Steve's discomfort. "It's Bucky isn't it?"

Twisting his lips and looking awkwardly away, he gave a dry chuckle. "I guess I find it a little weird."

"Stevie," she lamented, feeling exasperated but not sure why.

He held up his hands defensively, "I know, Lizzy, I know. It's ridiculous but I don't know it's... I can't seem to think of you with anyone else. I'm sorry, Li-"

"No," she cut him off, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to draw his eyes back to her, "I-" she cut herself off and squeezed her eyes shut, wondering whether she should tell him this. It was a wonder she was even considering saying the words out loud to herself, considering how long she had denied their existence. Finally reopening her eyes, she steeled herself and spoke. "Honestly Stevie, I struggle to imagine being with anyone else either."

There was more to that statement, but she didn't think that Steve needed to hear the rest. There was the knowledge that she wasn't, in almost any way, the same person she had been before; the worry that this new version of her was a little too twisted up to be loved in the same way as before; the fear of the people looking for her hurting her loved ones to get her. Things weren't how they were before, with the complications and fears and enemies and turmoil; it felt impossible for anything to return to the way it had been before – as much as she might wish it to.

He stepped forward with an outstretched arm, bringing it around her shoulders and guiding her back into the building. "It's gonna be okay, Lizzy."

She doubted that statement significantly, but nodded regardless. "I know, Stevie."

"But," he began, glancing furtively at the building before him, "in the meantime, looks like Tony isn't gonna let this go."

Looking to where Steve had gestured, Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the sight of Tony standing tersely in the doorway. He looked even more dissatisfied than before, his arms crossed haughtily across his chest as he watched the pair of them approach.

His expression of disapproval was not targeted at her however, and appeared to be directed instead at the small phone currently being precariously flipped in his hand. It was typical of Tony with all his disposable cash to be so flippant with his expensive possessions.

Putting the phone away when she and Steve reached his figure, Tony turned to the pair of them and unfolded his arms. "Time to get dressed, Liz."

"Rude," she remarked shortly, choosing to ignore the fact that she had just recently told him to fuck off and thus was being a little hypocritical.

"Well, Liz," he began with a note of condescension, "you're still in that grimy get up from Sokovia and we're about to have a visitor."

"A visitor?" Steve questioned, as Lizzy looked down at herself to reveal she really was still wearing her 'super suit' from Sokovia. "Who?"

Tony's lips quirked downwards before he answered, "the Secretary of State."

* * *

 **Hey guys!** **I'm super proud of myself for updating pretty quickly! I'm pretty happy with this chapter and I think there's a lot of stuff in it that will come into play later (alongside things from other chapters).** **So next chapter will be the beginning of my take on Civil War, so I'm really excited about that as things begin to ramp up (including in the romance department).**

 **As usual I would like to thank and respond to some reviews. Thank you to _TimeLordsRule_ , _LadyPorterfield_ , _.2018_ and _belladu57_ for your awesome reviews. **

_**LadyPorterfield's**_ **wonderful review mentioned something I've been considering for a while now and that's a type of prequel to this story. In the beginning of this story I did a lot of flashbacks and they were really useful to actual tell the story but I tend not to use them so much now as I don't feel they're needed for the story. Having said that there is SO MUCH from Lizzy's past that has never been written here. So I have been thinking of some kind of prequel but not in a traditional story format - more like a collection of one shots from moments from her past.**

 **So sorry for the rambling but if you would be interested in something like that and/or have any ideas what sort of things you'd like to see written, then please leave a review!**

 **Anyway, thanks so much for reading and to everyone who favorited and followed! A review of your thoughts, questions, theories and anything else would be very very appreciated! Until next time!**


	24. Chapter 24

The Secretary of State's visit had been swift but impactful. The gist of the visit had been to slam a heavy book of papers upon the table and inform them that they were being told to sign away all of their free choice and responsibility. They were to allow themselves to be directed entirely by a panel of representatives, meaning they couldn't legally intervene in catastrophic events without the permission of stuffy politicians sitting in their over-sized offices. Elizabeth felt bitter about the entire idea but regardless she was conflicted about which path to take; should she outright refuse to sign and continue to operate illegally or should she sign the papers to keep a close eye on a possibly shady organisation? Her previous experience with Hydra hiding behind Shield was leaning her towards the latter option but it felt _wrong_ somehow.

Talking it over as a group seemed to be getting them nowhere, as they seemed to go in constant circles of agreeing just to then disagree for what seemed like hours on end. Secretary Ross had left them hours ago now and, yet, they were still no closer to agreeing on a course of action. Steve seemed to be the only one of them actually intent on reading the entire book – something she doubted she would ever do despite how important the document really was – while the rest of them bickered unhelpfully.

The group seemed fairly evenly split, with Tony unsurprisingly leaning on the side of the accords while Steve would clearly be against them. Their decisions were clearly made and unlikely to change no matter what was said, it was more a question now of how many people could be convinced to their sides. At the moment their debate seemed friendly enough but Elizabeth could sense a strain beginning to seep into every small disagreement and larger debate.

Look at the mess we made," Tony suddenly interjected into what had become a rabble of barely distinguishable words, "all the people that are _dead_ now, who would be _alive._ " Elizabeth was tempted to reply by reminding him that those people had died while they had been cleaning up _his_ mess. Were she not entirely convinced that his determination to get these accords signed was, in fact, due to his own guilt, she would have. "There's no decision making process here, we need to be put in check." His absolute sense of right and wrong had always sat uneasily with her and, as much as she had tried over the years, she had never been able to convince him that not everything were that simple. She had often wondered if he wanted to be the good guy so very deeply that he couldn't accept that things didn't work like that. "Whatever form that takes; I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundry-less, we're no better than the bad guys." Wringing her hands together, Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head uneasily.

"Things aren't always that simple, Tony." Looking up at him, she could sense disappointment lingering in his eyes as he looked to her. "Life isn't black and white like that, sometimes you've gotta be like the bad guys just to beat them."

He twisted his lips as he considered her words but he ultimately seemed to find the sentiment unappealing, "is that really a price you're willing to pay?"

Without hesitation, she nodded. "Yes, absolutely." His eyes drifted sideways, away from her, and fixed to an empty spot by the nearest window. "Having said that..." She paused then, unsure if she were really about to argue that signing was the best option, "I would rather be on the inside of something I disagree with, than on the outside with no visibility _or_ control." Anxiously looking to Steve, she found his features stoic but his eyes gave away his concern over her words. "Imagine if we hadn't been a part of Shield, Steve," she began, appealing only to him then – desperate for him to understand that she was _not_ against him, "the only reason we stopped Insight was because we were _so_ close to it."

He nodded, eyes drawn back down to the document heavy in his hands. "But this document just shifts the blame, Lizzy. We're not taking responsibility for our actions."

Sitting forward, practically on the edge of her seat, she spoke emphatically. "I agree, but the idea of an organisation like this that _I_ can't keep a close eye on – this could be Hydra all over again."

"I'm sorry," _Rhodes will be sorry if he decides to keep talking_ , Elizabeth thought. Having clearly not sensed the way she bristled with aggravation at the sound of his voice, he continued; "that is dangerously arrogant." Rhodes hadn't experienced betrayal and conspiracy on the same level she had, he couldn't _understand_ her inherent mistrust of institutions such as these. "This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not Shield, it's not Hydra."

Before she could reply, noting that they had thought Shield were a reputable institution before paying dearly for their mistaken judgement, Steve interjected. "No, but it's run by people with agendas and agendas change."

"That's good. That's why I'm here." Tony jumped in, not acknowledging that other people may not have such wholesome changes of heart.

"Tony," she began, "most people don't work like that."

Steve nodded then, finally closing the heavy document in his hands before depositing it on the table before him. "She's right, Tony – besides, you _chose_ to do that, if we sign this, we surrender our right to choose." She had already made her agreement with him entirely clear throughout this fractious exchange, but she couldn't forgo her _need_ to keep a close watch on this organisation. "What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go?" That question echoed in her mind almost endlessly; if she did agree to sign she would be legally bound to follow orders, regardless of what they might be. "What if there's somewhere we need to go and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own."

"So shouldn't we _ensure_ that our hands are on this?"

"If we have one hand on the wheel we can still steer, if we take it off..." Elizabeth bobbed her head in agreement, silently thanking Natasha for putting almost perfectly into words the sentiment that Elizabeth had been struggling so much to express.

"We can't control this if we aren't even a part of it." She spoke softly to Steve, but he wasn't listening anymore, instead looking down to his phone. The artificial glow from the phone made his features more shadowed and severe than usual but, despite this, she could recognize the look upon his face. _Grief._ Peggy was dead, she had been sick for so long now, it didn't seem possible that the end could be this sudden. But death had a funny way of hitting you right at the wrong moment.

"Stevie," she all but whispered as she watched him stand, with a rushed and mumbled excuse, before he left the room entirely.

"Sharing a look with Sam, she quickly followed after him – not stopping to answer any questions fired at her from the others.

She found him on the stairs, with a sad slump to his shoulders and the pinched expression he held indicated just how much emotion he was holding back. She knew it was useless to hold back the tidal wave of feeling that were now crushing him, it would drown him at some point regardless of his efforts to stop it, but she knew he had to learn that for himself. He knew she was there, she had seen his head shift just slightly in her direction when she had found him, but he kept his eyes forward and fixated on the nothing that was before him.

Stepping forward and saying nothing, knowing there really was nothing to be said, she reached up and pulled him to her. He was rather bent in this position, being much taller than her, but he didn't seem to care as he pressed his face into the fabric of her shirt. No noise escaped him, but she could feel the heave of his suddenly quaking breaths as she held him close.

They stayed like that for a long while, with no words passing their lips, before he pulled away. Sparing her a fleeting glance before mumbling that he needed some air, he left her alone on the stairs. Watching him clamber up the stairs away from her, she felt a heaviness settle in her heart as she knew there were no words she could utter and no actions she could undertake that could ever sooth the hurt he now felt.

Sitting on the stairs, knees huddled up to her chest, Elizabeth pulled her new phone from her jeans. Scrolling through her, admittedly short, list of contacts, Elizabeth debated who she really wanted to call. She needed someone apart from this whole mess, from the accords, to give her clarity, advice or really anything at all. Finding her thumb hovering over one particular name, she wondered whether all she really wanted were a distraction and that she were using the accords as an excuse. Either way, she couldn't take the oppressive silence now pressing down on her.

What she really wanted to do was talk to Bucky. Wanted whatever comfort she could get from him, wanted his care, his attention, his love – she just wanted _him_ but she couldn't have _him_. She couldn't even find him and she hated it. He was the one person she used to tell everything to, even when he had no idea what she was ranting about, he would always just _listen._ She felt like throwing her phone down the stairs, angry at it for not inexplicably holding all the answers, but instead she pressed call.

It seemed to ring endlessly as Elizabeth chewed her fingernail, eyes lazily watching the grey carpet below. When he finally answered, she almost jumped – having grown used to the repetitive trill of the ringing. " _Liz_?" It was fairly surprising that this number was even still connected, or that he even had the phone on him; but she was glad.  
"Hey, Frank..." he didn't respond, something which shouldn't surprise her by now, "you okay?"

A short scoff of laughter sounded then, " _what happened in that city, Liz_?"

"Saw that, did you?" She was genuinely quite surprised by that, he wasn't usually the type to keep up with any current affairs that didn't involve the crime syndicates of New York. He gave a low hum of response and no words. "I don't know what happened," she huffed then, resting her head on her knees, "it just kinda... happened." A long pause hung between them and Elizabeth's eyes wandered down to her scuffed shoes as she thought through what she had even called him for.

"Frank," she began quietly, "they want me to sign something – something that puts me under the control of someone else." That was about as vague as she could conceivably be about the accords, but she felt it got the main crux of her imposition across well enough. "I don't know what to do." Her voice was small, like a scared child desperate for anyone else to make the decision for her.  
" _What's your gut tell you?_ " He asked gruffly, barely pausing to consider his words. She admired this about Frank; he never had to stop and think, he always seemed to just _know_ what he needed to do. Perhaps this was why she had called him, gone to him for advice, because she knew he would be straight with her.

"That I gotta keep my eyes on this."

" _Then you know what you gotta do._ "

* * *

The funeral had been a rather sad affair, something that seemed intuitive to the occasion, but it had still been an almost celebratory appreciation for Peggy's life. Steve was clearly struggling with the entire day, she could tell; despite his stoicism. She couldn't blame him, if anything she wished he would let it out a little more – stop trying to hide behind stoicism – because she knew just how important she had been to him. Although she _had_ held herself back from trying to push him, knowing this was a process he needed to go through alone; as difficult as it was.

Natasha was inside the church, speaking with him now and offering whatever support she could, while Elizabeth stood outside with Sam. "Hell of a few days, huh?" Elizabeth glanced away from the priest, who was now speaking solemnly with Sharon and another lady she didn't recognize, and up to Sam beside her.

Throwing him a half-hearted smile, still acutely aware of the mourners surrounding them, she shrugged. "Welcome to the glamorous life of a superhero."

He chuckled quietly, and nodded, looking out to the gathering crowd before them. "I need a vacation."

Bumping his shoulder with hers, she jokingly added; "maybe we should run away together?"

He hummed as though seriously considering this suggestion, "get a dog, run to Mexico..." he crossed his arms as he formulated this plan and Elizabeth couldn't help but smirk. "You can speak Spanish right?"

"Sí, hablo español."

Moving closer, quirking his eyebrows as he did so, as though he were telling her a secret, he asked; "then what are we waiting for?" Trying not to laugh too loudly, she pushed him away with a roll of her eyes.

"Lizzy?" Looking around at the utterance of her name, Elizabeth caught sight of Natasha leaving the church and felt her stomach erupt into nervous butterflies.

"Yeah?" The waver within her voice was barely noticeable, she hoped.

"Ready to go?"

She nodded her affirmation before she had a chance to change her mind. "Let me say goodbye to Steve first." Natasha nodded and moved to take her place beside Sam.

The cavernous church was entirely empty with the exception of Steve and the silence was squashing her. His shoulders were slumped and Elizabeth felt her lips purse in worry. Walking to him quietly, she placed a soft hand upon his back and muttered his name. As he turned to face her she pulled him down to her, wrapping him in her arms as he rested his weary head upon her shoulder.

"It's okay, Stevie." Her whispered words were coupled with a soothing stroke of her hand upon his upper back.

He pulled back to read her features, and she attempted to pull her lips into a smile. She really hated to leave him like this. "You're going aren't you?"

Glancing to her feet, she nodded meekly. "Someone who's suspicious of these accords _needs_ to be a part of them." They had had this conversation so many times leading up to this moment and she knew he understood that she _did_ agree with him, regardless of her actions to the contrary.

"I know, Lizzy."

"I _am_ on your side, Steve." Her tone was imploring and it seemed to make him smirk.

"I know, Lizzy." He repeated with a smirk. Nodding, not feeling much better about the situation but letting go of her worries regardless, she pulled him in for one last embrace before going to leave the church. Just as she reached the door, his voice echoed through the large hall and halted her in her movements. "Lizzy?" Hand laid upon the handle, she turned to face him one last time.

"Yeah?"

He didn't speak right away but Elizabeth remained silent, watching him with clear concern. "Does it..." his voice trailed off oddly and he seemed to be increasingly uncertain. Fixing his eyes back to her, after they had wandered from his feet to the ceiling, he finished his question. "Does it get easier?"

Eyes flickering to the wreath of vibrant flowers still beautifully laid out at the altar of the church, Elizabeth chewed her lip. Deciding on a somewhat cryptic answer, rather than the harsh truth, she shot him a sad little smile. "Don't think about what could have been, Steve. Think about all the times you had." Eyebrows crunching together, he nodded in understanding and Elizabeth left the church.

* * *

"Excuse me, Miss Romanoff, we just need your signature." Elizabeth felt entirely uncomfortable, surrounded by so many well-dressed and well-presented politicians. The room was bustling, so full and loud and overbearing. It didn't help that it felt remarkably like everybody was looking at her, casting furtive glances her way as they spoke in hushed tones to those around them.

Unfazed, Natasha hastily signed the paper thrust before them without hesitation and gestured silently for Elizabeth to follow suit. The pen was handed to her and Elizabeth could have sworn it was the heaviest thing she had ever felt. Taking a slow breath, she pressed the pen to the paper. The signature left in the wake of her rushed scribble was messy and almost illegible, but she guessed it would still count. "Thanks," the woman shot them both a large and practiced smile before walking away.

"I don't know about this, Nat." As she spoke she wrung her hands together, not sure what else to really do with them.

"It's okay, Lizzy. All we-" Unfortunately, her likely reasonable response was cut off by an unfamiliar voice behind them.

"I suppose none of us are used to the spotlight." Turning, she spotted an unfamiliar man approaching them. Although unfamiliar were likely an overstatement, he _was_ familiar but Elizabeth just couldn't seem to place him in her memory. Clearly, seeing as he were here, he were someone of importance but that fact didn't seem to jog her memory in any way.  
"Well, it's not always so flattering." Glancing sideways at Elizabeth's openly uncertain face, Natasha pointedly held out her hand for him. "Prince T'Challa."

Elizabeth tried not to let the recognition show on her face, but the feeling quickly morphed into confusion. "I didn't realize Wakanda was part of the UN?" Belatedly, and due to Natasha's sudden stare in her direction, Elizabeth realized this question may be slightly forthright. She had basically just asked him what he was even doing there.  
He paused for a long moment, regarding her with something akin to a poorly concealed smirk; he clearly could sense she was not used to the fine art of politics. "We are not," he told her, "many of my people were killed in Sokovia, our embassy there did not escape the destruction." He looked reverently to a man in the crowd then, one that Elizabeth guessed was the king of Wakanda, before turning back to her and continuing his explanation. "My father aims to protect our people, wherever they may be."

"I see," was all the response that Elizabeth could come up with and, as the king approached the three of them, Natasha subtly turned to her and suggested she find their seats. Elizabeth likely should have been insulted at Natasha's dismissal of her but all she felt was relief and understanding as she settled into the uncomfortable seats they had been provided with.

As Elizabeth waited for the proceedings to actually begin she let her eyes lazily wander the room while her mind became entirely occupied with other things. She wondered how Steve was coping, feeling immensely guilty she hadn't been able to stay with him after the funeral. She wondered if Frank were getting seriously injured somewhere, without her there to patch him back up. She wondered what Bucky was doing, and where he could possibly be – anywhere was the sad answer she came up with.

In the course of these somewhat melancholy musings, the crowd of the room had finally become seated and King T'Chaka had begun his address of the group. Elizabeth had missed the beginning entirely, too wrapped up in her own head to pay any attention, but, as she tuned back into what seemed to be a dull speech, she guessed she hadn't missed anything of importance.

Natasha seemed to be listening intently but it was clearly a front as her eyes had practically glazed over as she appeared to be daydreaming. Even the lady on the other side of Elizabeth looked openly bored, noisily beginning to twiddle her pen between her fingers almost rudely as she huffed and sat back in her chair. Even T'Challa seemed bored of his father's words, as Elizabeth watched him looking intently at whatever was happening outside. When T'Challa turned to look back to his father, however, the complete panic upon his features instantly pulled Elizabeth back into paying attention.

Without pausing to think Elizabeth pushed Natasha from her chair to underneath the desk and grasped the arm of the women beside her, roughly pulling her down too. As T'Challa's yelled warning echoed through the room, Elizabeth raised her hands, summoning a wall of black shadow that entrenched her in darkness. The shield she had raised did nothing to drown out the deafening explosion that shook the entire building.

Fire licked at the shadows of her ethereal shield and Elizabeth felt them as though they were burning through her very skin, but she held it in place. Thankfully, the flames died away quickly and Elizabeth wasted little time in dropping the shield; intent instead on ensuring Natasha was unscathed.

"Nat?!" Her panicked yell was barely audible over the sudden and intense fearful screaming echoing throughout the sooty room.

"I'm okay!" The words were accompanied by a pressure on her arm, that she assumed came from Natasha's hand, and Elizabeth felt relief sweep through her. It was short-lived however, when she glanced over the desk. T'Challa was hunched over his father's still figure, anguish painting every inch of his features and Elizabeth quickly looked away. "We gotta get outta here."

Natasha nodded silently, already helping the person beside her to stand. Following suit, Elizabeth softly shook the shoulder of the lady beside her. Wide eyes turned to face her and Elizabeth slowly laced her arm around the woman and pulled her into a stood position. There were no visible injuries and she contributed the woman's apparent unsteadiness to shock. Still holding the woman, Elizabeth's eyes found a man soaked in blood and laying awkwardly upon the floor. Taking a steadying breath, she raised her free hand and raised a sort of shadowed stretcher beneath him and lifted him from the ground. Feeling as though focusing on the woman leaning on her _and_ the man now suspended in the air would prove challenging enough, Elizabeth followed Natasha from the building.

By the time Elizabeth reached the outside of the building, having taken a long while considering she were lumbered down by two people, Natasha had already been outside for long enough that her expression had changed from shocked to determined. Immediately making her way to Elizabeth she guided one of the EMT's to take hold of the woman on her arm as Elizabeth lowered the man gently to the ground. As soon as Elizabeth were free of the two survivors Natasha grabbed her arm and heavily guided her away from the crowds.

"Nat, what's-" Natasha quickly shushed her, not even looking at her as she pulled her hastily away from the crowd and into a shadowed alley where they would both be hidden.

Finally rounding on her, Natasha's face finally came into view – and the uncertainty and concern on her face made Elizabeth's heart sink with a drowning dread. "What is it?" She asked quietly, not sure she even wanted to know the answer to that.

"The bomb..." Natasha bit her lip, an uncharacteristically nervous action; the sight of which made Elizabeth's heart jump further into high gear. "They think... they're saying it was Barnes." Elizabeth's eyes widened and she took a large step back.

"No, no, no," her hands were thrown up in front of her as she physically backed away from Natasha's words, "that's not... that's not fucking possible." It couldn't be, _could it?_ Even if he were of the mind-set of someone about to bomb the UN, which she could attest that he wasn't, why would he even want to? It made no sense.

"Lizzy." The harsh utterance of her name succeeded in its goal of regaining her attention. Natasha was stepping slowly towards her, as though approaching a spooked animal. "There's more."

Practically gaping at the woman, Elizabeth's eyebrows pulled together – she couldn't think of anything she could conceivably add to the previous statement. "What?" The word was barely audible but Natasha seemingly didn't need to be prompted to explain the rest.

"They think..." Her eyes darted to the side and Elizabeth could see she was trying to determine how best to put this into words.

"What, Nat?!"

Sighing, Natasha conceded to her demanding tone and looked her dead in the eye. "There's some speculation that you're involved." Elizabeth could do nothing but dumbly blink at her. "You need to go," a pause and a concerned glance behind her, " _now_."

* * *

 **Hey Guys!**

 **This chapter was a little frustrating to write because, like many of you I'm sure, I just wanna get to the Bucky/Lizzy stuff. But, without this chapter the story would be a little broken so I made it as brief as possible. I promise next chapter will see the two of them together again, fighting side by side this time, so I'm super hyped to finish writing it and I hope you guys are hyped to read it! The next chapter will hopefully be released some time next week as it's mostly written and just needs a little tweaking!**

 **As usual big thanks to reviewers _17 Daybreak,_ _LadyPorterfield, and .2018_! **

**Thanks so much for reading and to all those who favorited and followed! I'd love it if you guys would leave a review telling me what you think, any questions or theories you've come up with and I'm definitely looking for ideas of what people would like to see from Lizzy's past (for a possible spin off one-shot series)! Thanks again guys!**


	25. Chapter 25

Bucharest was strangely nice, he enjoyed it there – as much as he had tried not to – and he had lingered there for too long already. Strangely, he hadn't even thought of when he would leave. Staying in one place _would_ make it easier for Lizzy to find him; unfortunately that also made it easier for anybody else to find him too. It wasn't _really_ worth the risk, especially considering that she was likely too busy recovering from Sokovia to even think about looking for him, but it still _was_ worth the risk somehow.

There was a busyness in the air today, as he walked lazily back to his place, and it felt so easy to get lost in it. This odd comfort he had found in the city was disturbed as he caught the eye of a vendor across the street. The way the man looked at him, with such fearful recognition, was too familiar to ignore. But why now? All of a sudden? He had walked this street almost every day since he had arrived in the city and had likely been spotted by this vendor before; _so why recognize him no_ w? Disappointment pulled at him as he waited for the traffic to disperse long enough for him to make his way over.  
Crossing the road, casting a cursory glance to his surroundings to ensure that nobody else had recognized him, he edged closer to the man. The hope to get any answers from the man disappeared entirely as he spotted Bucky approaching and quickly abandoned his stall in favor of running like his life depended on it. It wasn't crazy to imagine that the man really did believe his life was on the line.

Grasping one of the man's hastily discarded newspapers, his questions were quickly answered. A bombing in Vienna, of the UN no less, that was seemingly being pinned on him. Tossing the paper back, not paying attention to where it landed, he quickly fled the busy street. He needed to leave, he had already lingered for far too long, people would start putting the pieces together soon enough; if not already.

Thankfully he wasn't far from his place and he should be able to disappear within a few hours; he had made a mistake with how long he had stayed but he wasn't stupid, he was prepared to up and leave instantly. His mind was racing so fast that he barely paid attention to his hasty steps up the stairs but as he reached the dirty door he stopped. Something was off.

Keeping his movements silent, he edged closer to the door and strained his ears to catch anything indicative of what was happening inside his flat. He could hear the shuffling sound of movement behind the door and he cursed under his breath – everything he needed to escape was behind that door and he really hadn't wanted to fight his way out.

"I don't know, Stevie." The sound of Lizzy's voice from the behind the door set his heart jumping and dropping all at once. He wanted to see her so desperately, especially after everything that had happened to her, but he categorically did not _want_ her involved in this.

Bucky couldn't leave them in there, he couldn't just walk away now. Still keeping himself silent he entered the room, locked the door behind him and stepped to the center. Steve's back was too him but he could tell the man was rifling through his disordered notebook. He couldn't make many observations on Steve, considering his back was turned, but he noted he was in his uniform – it was darker, more haggard than before.

"You think he remembers us, Lizzy?"

Eyes roaming to her, he felt himself tense – he felt as though he had anticipated seeing her with an almost childlike sense of excitement but now that she was actually here he wasn't sure what to even do with his hands – let alone how to speak to her. There were so many other things he needed to be focusing on but somehow, his mind screeched to a stop as he looked at her.

Her eyes weren't on him, instead cast down to watch as her slender fingers fiddled with the faded paper upon the walls. Long and mussed hair fell untamed below her shoulders, the almost shining golden color forming a sharp contrast to the heavy black of her clothes. Like Steve, she seemed to be wearing her 'uniform' and he tried not to concentrate on just how good it looked on her. "I don't know." Her voice was a tired lilt and her words sent his eyebrows scrunching together; she hadn't told Steve about their call.

Now that he thought about it, he guessed she wouldn't have told him about Bratislava either. Honesty in the face of difficult circumstances had never been Lizzy's strong suit.

With a heaved sigh her eyes wandered from their steadfast gaze upon her hands and landed right on him. Widened blue eyes stared into his and he felt his mouth fall open dumbly as though he were about to speak but, upon realizing he had no notion of what he should even say, he quickly snapped it back shut. Looking at her face on, it was hard to imagine she had been in Sokovia just days ago, she looked so... _perfect_. It seemed so implausible that she could remain so unharmed but he was immeasurably pleased regardless.

"Look at this, Lizzy." With his back still turned, Steve was entirely unaware of the silent exchange occurring between himself and Lizzy.

Neither he nor Lizzy took their eyes from one another in response to his voice. He watched as her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, before he scolded himself for so obviously watching her lips and looked back to her eyes. This was ridiculous, if there were a hope for any of them getting out of this alive, he was going to have to pull himself together; she was just _right there_ , like he had been wanting for what felt like months but was in reality only a matter of weeks.

"Steve," her tone had turned from tired and strained to tense and whispered.

Finally shifting his gaze to Steve, watching as the man turned slowly to observe whatever Lizzy was warning him about, he felt his shoulders tense even more. Steve seemed to square his shoulders at the sight of him, as though readying for action and Bucky guessed he couldn't blame him. Considering that it seemed Lizzy hadn't told him about their time in Bratislava, he doubted that Steve really knew what to expect with him. If he were honest, he weren't so sure how to play this; doubting that this was the best time for Steve to find out that Lizzy had clearly held back information from him.

"Do you know me?" Eyes flicking back to where Lizzy stood, eyes wide as she watched him almost helplessly. She was scared, he realized, that he would give her away.

"You're Steve." He started slowly, a little uncertain of himself, but when clear relief spread upon Lizzy's features he steeled himself to continue his slight lie. "I read about you in a museum."

"And her?"

"Stevie, we don't have time for this." Lizzy still hadn't taken her eyes from him and Bucky felt her stare as though it were magnetic; pulling him in.

"Lizzy," he supplied slowly, watching her reaction, "you're an Avenger."

"I know you're nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be," He felt his nerves starting to fray, his intuition telling him that an enemy was closing in. "But you're lying."

It seemed he wasn't as good at lying as he thought he was, especially not to someone so familiar to him – but he supposed his constant glances to Lizzy were likely a giveaway. Deflecting, he quickly spoke in reply "I wasn't in Vienna, I don't do that anymore."

Lizzy gave a hum of reply then, and he let his eyes fall back to her and found her uncertain. _Did she not believe him?_ "We know," she began, finally tearing her eyes from his figure to glance sidelong at Steve, "you wouldn't have made such a fucking mess."

An exasperated sigh sounded from Steve then, as he glanced sidelong to Lizzy, before turning back to him. "Well the people who think you did are coming here now," that was unsurprising, but still disappointing, "and they're not planning on taking you alive." Unfortunately, he doubted that his friends would let him deal with this alone; they would risk their lives to help him and he felt increasingly panicked that he wouldn't be able to save them.

"That's smart. A good strategy." There was movement above, too heavy footed to be other residents, and it confirmed his intuition that the enemy was closing in. When he looked back to Lizzy, she seemed distracted by the sounds of movement beyond his windows and, glancing down, he noted that shadows had begun slipping seamlessly through her fingers.

"It doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck."

"How else is this gonna go, Stevie?" There were blurry, likely repressed if he were honest, memories of him fighting with her in Washington and he was strangely curious to see her fight again – but the stakes right now were far too high and he felt tempted to tell her to let him deal with it.

"You pulled me from the river, why?" Steve seemed insistent.

Lizzy's shadows had moved from being bound at her hands to traversing her entire figure, darkness dancing dangerously upon her skin, and Bucky wondered if she even knew it was happening. "Not now." Her voice sounded stronger somehow, as she scolded Steve's insistence, as though it were resonating throughout the entire room – he couldn't remember her voice ever taking on this unsettling timbre before. Her white eyes darted from him to the window, right before something smashed through it.

Steve knocked the explosive away and out of range, leaving it to explode outside the window but another loud smash of glass indicated more explosives. Steve and Lizzy seemed adept enough at dealing with them and, having enough faith in them, Bucky started planning his escape. He doubted the door were really a viable option, considering police were likely positioned there, but the jump from here to the building opposite was too far. There was no running away from this, there was only a fight.

A loud, angry banging on the surprisingly sturdy wood of his door quickly confirmed his suspicion that there were men stationed outside. Grabbing the first thing his hand could grab, he jammed the door shut with the silver table he had never previously found a use for. Unfortunately, it seemed the door had not been their only plan of entry and almost the moment he sealed the door several men came barreling through the yet unbroken windows. Glass scattered across the floor, the sharp shards providing little worry to him compared with the threat of enemies.

Despite the presence of Steve and Lizzy, the men seemed intent on him and not much else. It wasn't particularly surprising, he was their main target, but it merely seemed a little unprofessional to completely disregard the others. He had been trained to be aware of everything – the smallest of missed details could jeopardize a mission entirely – and right now he was hyper-aware of Lizzy battering a man with a metal pan he had left on the side. The man she had attacked, now with blood pouring from his bulging nose, tried to advance on her but she was too fast; kicking him square in the chest causing him to practically fly backwards.

The door beside her, which led to the outside, swung violently open then and the black barrel of an assault rifle was pressed to her stomach. Losing vital concentration, he carelessly shoved the man attacking him to the side, and rushed to her. Using his mechanical arm to punch the man squarely in the ribs, more than likely breaking a few, and slamming his head into a nearby wall was likely a little over-brutal but he couldn't bring himself to care.

* * *

Bucky left her side almost as quickly as he had appeared there. The man pressing a gun into her side hadn't been much of a threat, especially considering what she had survived recently, but he seemed to think it were life or death. Turning from her quickly he had taken to flee but Steve quickly halted him – which she was thankful for as Elizabeth already had another assailant to deal with. She made quick work of him, snapping his right arm with her power and lightly pushing him over as the pain clouded over his basic motor functions.

The sharp sound of shooting rang through her skull then and Elizabeth quickly spun around to find the source. A particularly brazen soldier was shooting at Steve and Bucky, stupidly not aiming anywhere other than their easily protected torsos, and Elizabeth acted quickly. Using a wall of power, she pushed the man rather harshly into the far wall – knocking him out cold. Wasting no time, Bucky pushed Steve away harshly – as though he were some kind of human battering ram.

Elizabeth came to the conclusion that he was attempting to distract them in order to evade them when he knocked a heavy set man out and pushed his now prone form over to her. She didn't have time to wonder why he would run from them as she was too preoccupied trying to push the rather heavy man from her slender frame.

By the time she had freed herself from the horrendous weight of the man and regained her footing Bucky had already disappeared through the suddenly destroyed doorway. "Steve! Corridor!" The yelled words were the only instruction she could provide him with before she too disappeared from the room.

There seemed a trail of incapacitated men, each groaning on the floor with various wounds, which she easily followed to find her target. He heavily threw a man into a wall, leaving an ominously large dent in the drywall, before kicking three others down the stairs. Determined to keep her eyes on him, she quickly made her way down the stairs to fight beside him. By the time Steve had made his way to them, she was already in the midst of the fighting.

The fighting seemed non-stop, an endless array of enemies lining up to face the three of them, and Elizabeth had already left at least four men crumpled in her wake. She was simultaneously working on her fifth and sixth when Steve's voice rang loudly through the air. "Lizzy!" Knocking her two assailant's heads together, Elizabeth looked to Steve.

He seemed in the throes of his own fight and, without glancing her way, gave her a single word explanation. "Bucky!" Eyes automatically darting around in a desperate search for the man, Elizabeth cursed when she couldn't find him. Following the sound of a rather distinct yell, she glanced over the barrier to find him hanging precariously from a bent safety railing. Jumping the barrier, Elizabeth felt the stuffy air rush past her figure as she fell to his level. The fall was swift and she stopped herself with a surface of shadows beneath her feet. Quickly extending the surface, she made a shadowed pathway leading to floor he had landed upon.

Her eyes were quickly drawn to him and she found him watching her with something akin to awe. Feeling herself smirk despite herself, she stepped towards him using her makeshift path but her movement served to remind him that he was trying to escape. Eyes darting back to the doorway before him, he took off down the hall.

"Bucky, stop!" Was her useless yell as he disappeared from sight. Running to catch up, she watched him bolt down the hallway and jump straight off the balcony. Her heart jumped into her throat as he disappeared from sight once more and all she could seem to picture was him plummeting to the ground. Rushing down the hall, wanting to make sure he was still alive if nothing else, she stopped running as she hit the balcony's edge. He had made the jump it seemed and was now booking it across the roof.

Clambering nervously up onto the balcony, Elizabeth heaved a breath to settle her nerves, and jumped straight after him. She felt shadows encircle her as she employed them to propel herself forward, ensuring that she would land safely upon the roof and not heavily against the pavement below. In her desperate rush to catch up with him, she didn't slow her descent quite enough and ended up landing heavily upon the roof surface. Coughing, feeling as though all the air had been knocked from her lungs, she rolled to the side and attempted to push herself up.

As she wearily got to her feet she spotted a new and strangely ominous figure upon the roof. It looked as though he were wearing some kind of cat-suit, but it looked heavy duty – not like something you'd find in your average store. The sight of sharp, pointed claws glinting in the sunlight panicked her and the way the man was heading straight for Bucky sent her heart hammering.

"Bucky!" Yelling to gain his attention worked surprisingly well, considering how often he had ignored her previously, as his head whipped around to find her. He practically stumbled over his own feet as he halted in his movements – he seemed surprised to find that she had even followed him. What he didn't notice, unfortunately, was the man about to attack him.

There was a catlike elegance to the way he jumped at Bucky, alongside a viciousness that sent Elizabeth's mind racing, but she didn't waste time watching what happened next. It seemed to take an age for her to reach them, every second felt as though it may end in disaster, and she could do nothing but focus on getting there as soon as possible. When she finally reached them, she sent the mysterious third figure flying with a powerful kick. Before the man could even think to right himself, she sent a glinting knife hurtling his way. The metal of the blade barely even scratched the surface of his suit and Elizabeth watched dejectedly as her perfectly thrown blade clattered uselessly to the floor.

The cat-man didn't bother responding to her attack, his attention becoming caught by Bucky's quickly retreating figure. Feeling a little irked that he would leave her to deal with this crazy man alone, Elizabeth groaned and attempted to keep this stranger's murderous attention focused on her. Binding his legs with shadowed power she watched him topple over before running past him and towards Bucky.

The mysterious man recovered far more quickly than she had anticipated, however.

She couldn't hold back the high pitched yelp of pain that escaped her as she felt claws rip through the skin of her back. Warm blood was seeping from this fresh wound but she was quickly distracted from it as a leg swept hers from under her and she could do nothing to prevent her head cracking against the roof. Rolling over, feeling suddenly dizzy, she was met with the hazy sight of claws heading for her face and neck.

"Fuck," her voice came out croaky as the world continued to spin slightly around her – she raised her hands hoping to cast any kind of shadow to defend herself with. Thankfully, her poorly thought through plan of defense was rendered obsolete when the mysterious attacker was shoved from her figure. She heard the crack of a punch somewhere to her side, and turned her head to watch Bucky straighten up from where he had been standing over their attacker. Blinking rapidly, her head began to clear and she guessed her power was beginning to soothe her aching skull. An arm roughly pulled her upright and she glanced up to him, feeling a swell of confusion – considering he was so intent on leaving it felt surprising that he would come back for her. His eyes looked her over quickly and, finding her uninjured enough, he jerked his head indicating she should follow him. "C'mon."

" _Lizzy, who **is** that guy_?" Steve had finally spotted them it seemed.

"No fucking clue," was her breathless reply but Steve's aggravated comment over her language was inaudible as Elizabeth was attacked once more. As she went flying forwards from the force of what she guessed was a kick to her back, she could hear the clashing of metal indicating that Bucky was fighting him off once more. Jumping back to her feet, Elizabeth ignored the telling pain in her head and used shadows to painfully twist his attacker's leg; allowing Bucky time to escape.

Using the opening she had provided him with, he jumped up more quickly than she thought possible and ran towards her. As he passed her, his hand shot out to drag her along with him and her legs quickly complied. As they reached the edge of the roof he paused beside her, glancing to her with clear uncertainty and a silent question. Quickly looking over the side of the roof, Elizabeth huffed – knowing they had little time – and stepped off the roof. That seemed to answer his unspoken question as she saw him jump after her from the corner of her eye.

While he had jumped after her he still managed to land faster, she guessed it was unsurprising considering that she had to slow her ascent to simply survive the fall, but she quickly caught back up with him as he ran from their attacker. As she followed after him she felt the effort pulling at her already as she was forced to employ shadows to the muscles of her legs just to keep pace with him. Whilst the combination of her suit and practice had increased her energy and thus her ability to employ her power, she still felt as though she were walking a fine line.

As gunfire rained down on the pair of them from above she watched as Bucky jumped down to the road below them. Stuttering slightly in her steps, not so sure this were really the best plan of action, she begrudgingly jumped down after him. As she landed, Elizabeth's main worry was that she would instantly be flattened by a car but the moment her feet hit the road she felt a hand grab her arm and pull her forward. Following his silent instruction she ran at full speed after him, dodging cars near constantly.

 _"Lizzy, I'm in pursuit."_

Thank god," she muttered in reply, feeling as though she wouldn't be able to keep up with Bucky much longer.

" _Stay with Bucky._ "

"Good plan," she huffed back, sarcastically.

Her concentration on increasing the speed of her run was so great that she was barely able to focus on anything else at this point. Thus she didn't take note of the many police cars pulling up before them – blocking their escape. She had been about to run directly into the path, having continued running even as Bucky slowed himself. "Lizzy, _fuck_ ," she heard his hasty words as his hand shot out to grab her and roughly pull her in another direction.

As she ran desperately after him, in whatever new direction he had pulled her in, she felt everything become hazy once more. If she were to lose control of herself, it would end in disaster, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could really keep this up. Battling to keep a hold of herself, feeling her head pounding as she could practically hear the blood rushing past her ears, she heard – almost distantly – a whimper pass her lips.

A force yanked her to the side and she felt herself pulled onto something solid. Whatever she had been placed on was rumbling beneath her and she could feel air rushing past her despite the fact that she was no longer running. Her mind quickly came back to her then, her recuperation period seemingly much faster than it used to be, and – as her vision returned from its previous blurriness – she realized what was happening. Somehow, she had found herself on the back of a bike, with Bucky before her. How he had managed this, she wasn't sure, but she was more than grateful that he had.

Placing an arm lightly around his figure, still not trusting her own body to stay upright quite yet, she glanced behind them. Eyes squinting slightly, she spotted Steve in what she guessed was a commandeered police vehicle but the mysterious cat-man seemed to be hanging off the side of it. The moment she set eyes on him, however, he jumped from his position and straight at them. Not having much of a choice, she threw up a rudimentary wall of power for him to slam straight into.

Considering that the man hadn't managed to attack them she assumed it had worked, but she didn't see the results as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Gripping Bucky tighter, waiting for her mind to clear over before she let him go, she felt her head rest upon his back. Taking a breath, her mind slowly came back to her.

" _Little help_?!" Sam's harsh words in her ear captured her attention and she looked behind them once more. Sam's flying figure had been lumbered down by the weight of their strange attacker. Turning back to Bucky, she placed her lips closer to her ear – hoping he would hear her – and asked; "gun?"

"Left." He answered quickly, and Elizabeth slowly shifted over to his left boot in search of the weapon. "Other left, Lizzy." Wincing, feeling her face flush with embarrassment at her inability to tell her left from right, she switched sides and quickly found the gun.

It was small, but it would get the job done. Keeping one arm secured around Bucky, she leaned her weight back and took aim. She _should_ be confident that she wouldn't hit Sam, she knew she was an excellent shot, but the fact that she cared about Sam rather a lot caused a few nerves to flutter within her. Taking a deep and calming breath, Elizabeth pulled the trigger.

Despite her perfect aim the bullets seemed just as ineffective as her knife had been and Elizabeth had soon enough emptied the entire clip. "Fuck." Throwing the gun, out of pure aggravation and not much else, Elizabeth returned her attention to where they were headed.

"I got it." An explosion rattled the ground then, the world seeming to quake as cement and rubble alike tumbled down behind them. Elizabeth wasn't sure how exactly he had managed that, but it seemed effective; that is, until their cat-like attacker emerged relentlessly from the dust and rubble.

Elizabeth barely had time to react before sharp claws punctured the back tire of their bike. The bike flipped dramatically in response, sending them both flying through the air. Elizabeth felt the roughness of the road beneath her scraping at her skin – she was sure her suit would be torn to shreds by the time she stopped rolling along the ground.

Taking a while to recover, her body feeling rather ruined, Elizabeth looked up slowly to see Steve shoving the cat-man from Bucky. _Jeez, this guy doesn't give up,_ she thought wearily; slowly getting back to her feet. Swaying, Elizabeth winced at the sight of several cars surrounding them. Slowly making her way to Steve and Bucky, stopping between them, Elizabeth grimaced as War Machine landed to the side of them.

"Stand down, now." It was unsurprising that he had turned up now, when the three of them were already pinned down and neutralized.

"As if you could keep any of us down, _amateur_." Her words were biting, her disdain for him clear.

"Congratulations, you're a criminal."

Steve's staying hand kept her from voicing any kind of biting retort but any words quickly left her head as the cat-man who had been attacking them removed his mask. Prince T'Challa, she guessed it were King T'Challa now, was the last person she expected to see. However, she supposed his sudden attacking of them did make a little more sense now – considering it seemed she and Bucky were taking the fall for his father's death.

"Your highness." Despite Rhodey's sarcastic comment being something she would likely say herself, she still found it highly agitating.

Steve were being handcuffed beside her, but it seemed he was seen as less of a threat than herself and Bucky. While he had been forced to the ground to be handcuffed, she were being pinned to the spot by several guns – although they didn't look like any guns she had ever seen.

A hand grabbed her from behind and her attention had been so intent on the guns before her that this sudden touch made her jump. Whirling around, she found the man who had grabbed her. He looked suddenly terrified now that she had focused upon him. Glancing down she found him clutching a pair of familiar handcuffs – she recognized the specs immediately; metal that would tighten should she struggle against them and wires that would electrify her skin should her captor demand it. They were clearly new and purpose built but they were too similar to what she had experienced with Hydra for it to be a mere coincidence. She hated to consider it, but it seemed like Tony must have been the one to supply these; which also meant he had been looking through Hydra's files on her despite her telling him to leave it alone. That realization itself felt like another physical blow.

When the man took another step forward, raising the cuffs slightly at her, she took a wild step back. "Woah, no," she began, holding her palms up, "fuck off."

Stepping back rapidly at her words, seemingly happy to have any excuse to back away from her, the man held a finger to his ear. "Shoot her."

"Wait, stop!" Steve had stepped forward then, hands cuffed behind his back, panic clearly written upon his features.

The men didn't listen, the one closest to her squeezing the trigger. The projectile was thinner than a bullet, more like a dart than anything else, but the minute it pierced her skin she felt electricity sparkle painfully along her entire figure. A scream of pain passed her lips and she could do nothing but collapse upon the floor, her muscles jerking awkwardly as the sparks encompassed her.

* * *

 **Hey guys!**

 **This chapter was surprisingly challenging to write as it followed a lot of the movie in how things go down - next chapter is massively more original content so hopefully that chapter will be a step up!**

 **As usual thanks to _LadyPorterfield_ and _.2018_ for their reviews last chapter! **

**Please take the time to leave a review of any thoughts, questions, theories etc, as it would really make my day and inspire quicker updates! Thanks for reading!**


	26. Chapter 26

Harsh white lights greeted her tired eyes as they fluttered open. Groaning, she pressed a hand to her eyes, attempting to shield them slightly until they refocused somewhat. A sterile smell was sitting heavily in the air, as though someone had bleached everything in sight, but Elizabeth could still detect an undercurrent of rust and metal piercing through the false cleanliness. The air was cold around her, stagnant and pressing; wherever she had awoken was an enclosed space. Her mouth was bloodied but she quickly swallowed the metallic taste away and wet her chapped lips.

Blinking more rapidly, panic beginning to swell within her, she willed her eyes to adjust. It was a slow process, painstakingly so, but eventually her surroundings were revealed to her. The harsh lights were directly above her, casting her figure in a harsh glow, but the surrounding walls were contrastingly dark. A hand moved to touch the wall then, curious of what they were made of considering their strange shiny quality, but the moment her fingertips grazed their surface she was met with sparks. Gasping at the sudden shock, Elizabeth pulled her hand back to herself, staring almost accusatorily at the wall itself. Glancing to the wall across from her, she summoned shadows and lightly skimmed them against the bleak surface there. Her experiment provided immediate results, she felt the shock upon her shadows before they fled back to her now upright figure. It seemed she were encased in a cage of electricity.

"Hey, Liz." Looking to the door then, made of what she guessed was reinforced glass, Elizabeth stood and faced him down angrily.

"Hey, Liz!?" She repeated Tony's words incredulously, letting disdain bleed through each word. "Are you fucking kidding me, Tony?!"

"Lizzy," he began, eyes cast away from her with a nervous tone, but she cut him off before he could so much as think of his next word.

"No, don't say anything – Just let. Me. Out." She punctuated each word with an angry jab of her finger, her tone wavering with the effort of holding back her fury.

"I can't do that, Lizzy." If she were in her right mind, she would have noted how solemn he really did seem, but she couldn't care less what he felt in this moment. She was trapped, in a cage that was scarily familiar to the one Hydra would have kept her in.

"Of course you can," she sneered at him, "you fucking built this place, didn't you? At the very least you gave them the plans for it. And those cuffs, those guns – who else would've come up with that, huh?"

Eyes still cast slightly away from her gaze, he shook his head. "I had to do it, Liz." Finally, his eyes looked into hers – sincerity shining within them. He really did believe that this was the only choice; there was pain and contradiction battling in his eyes, but he was still so resolute in believing this was the path of good.

"How long?" Her question was simple and he understood it, she could tell he truly did, but he didn't answer. "Tony, we both know this," she gestured to the room surrounding her, "is too high tech to have sprung up outta nowhere – how long have you been making this _shit_ behind my back?"

She watched him swallow thickly then, arms crossing over his chest. "Since the Hydra leak. The research on you, Liz... I needed contingencies."

"Contingencies?" She repeated, practically dumbstruck by this confession. "So, your divine solution was to build your own version of Hydra tech? To fucking imprison me when I got a little too rebellious for your liking?"

"You agreed to this when you signed!" He snapped back at her, hands upon his hips now as he watched her with a righteous fervor of his own. "If you break the law, you deal with the consequences!"

Feeling an angry, prickling heat flaring beneath her skin, she took another step forward; now as close to the glass as she could get without pressing her nose to it. "That's bullshit and you know it!"

"I'm sorry, Liz."

Eyes darting all around, barely settling on any one particular detail, she felt as though the walls were closing in. She had been free for so very long, she didn't know if she could survive this all over again – especially not now that she had been so close to having Bucky back. "You have to let me out, Tony, please." The bite had retreated from her tone, replaced with a scared whisper and a shrinking figure. "I... I can't be in here, Tony. Please." Her hands were clasped before her as she literally begged him for her freedom.

"I'm doing everything I can to fix this, Liz, just hold on." His gaze once again shifted from her, this time focusing on something to his left, and she dropped her hands from where they had been clasped before her. Hanging his head, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. "I have to go."

Without so much as looking back to her, he squared his shoulders and lifted his head before turning and walking away. "Tony! No, please!" She began slamming her palms on the glass, barely able to stand the pain of the electricity greeting every slam of her hand. Eventually, she was forced to give up; her palms feeling scorched from where the sparks had sprung upon her skin. Whirling around, she summoned power to lift the rickety metal framed bed they had provided her with. A twisted smile overcame her lips as she noted, with satisfaction, that they had not followed Hydra's specification in terms of nailing the bed to the floor. With a yell of exertion and anger and of all the emotions swirling violently through her mind, she catapulted the bed at the glass.

The frame hit the glass with enough force to cause a large, snaking crack. She wasn't afforded the luxury of exploiting this new weakness as white hot, blinding arcs of electricity began slicing through the air. The arcs of lightning felt as though they shot through her very core and her hands came up to grip her hair as she collapsed to her knees.

The violence of lightning and pain ended as suddenly as it had begun and she heaved breaths loudly, as though she had just escaped from drowning.

"Elizabeth Boscoe," eyes darting upwards, she spotted another horribly familiar face; Matthew Turner, the man who had brought charges against her after the Hydra leak. "I had hoped I would see you again." His slick hair was just as greasy as it had been the last time she had seen him, what she had hoped would be the last, and his voice was just as unnerving as it had been that day.

"What are you doing here?" A breathy quality had taken over her voice, her rasping words barely audible.

He smiled widely, his hand coming to unbutton his slick suit jacket. "I'm here for you, Elizabeth."

"Too bad," she spat, "looks like someone else already has me."

He laughed then, his hands resting casually in his pockets then. He observed her with such disturbing fascination, it made her skin crawl – it reminded her of so many others before him; that sick, twisted curiosity. "My colleague and I have already spoken with Secretary Ross, he seems to agree that a threat such as yourself must be handled... _delicately_." as he spoke, his eyes wandered down her figure.

Crossing her arms over her figure and averting her eyes, she mumbled; "colleague?" She had mostly asked to serve as some sort of distraction from the feel of his eyes upon her but dread settled within as she noted the excitement that her question seemed to grant him.

"I think you may know him," another man stepped into view then and Elizabeth stopped breathing. The last time she had seen this man it had been on the cracked phone screen that Bucky had handed her back in Bratislava and now, he was standing right before her, with nothing but a cracked pane of glass to protect her.

She should have known they were linked; the timing had been so obvious – how had she missed it. The answer was clear; her biggest distraction had been placed right in the middle of it.

"Is it starting to make sense, Elizabeth?" He didn't give her a chance to answer, enjoying the sound of his own voice far too much to allow her to interject. "You see, should the case against you fail I couldn't very well snatch you from the streets of New York – too many prying eyes," he waved his hand in the air then, as though casting those prying eyes away. "But Bratislava? If you disappeared there your soldier would take the fall." He was right, she could almost imagine the story that could easily have been spun had she disappeared. "A tragic story like that? The people would have eaten it up don't you think, Elizabeth?"

Dejected, she nodded, feeling a little stupid for not working it out sooner. "But it didn't work," she grumbled the words, knowing that she had likely only evaded him then through nothing but luck.

He hummed in response, casting an almost accusatory glance to the man beside him, "there was, an error in judgement." He was _so_ careful with his words, it was almost frustrating to listen to his every guarded sentence – he made it seem as though he held every answer she could ever wish for, but that he was too careful to so much as provide a hint. Utterly helpless, she let her shoulders slump and head hang in defeat.

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was small, dejected, as she solemnly asked for a sense of what he would subject her to.

A bright, would-be charming, smile pulled at his features then. "I want what you are, everything you hold inside," his eyes drifted closed then and she felt herself shrink back as she watched something akin to pleasure seep into his smile, "it is more than you know." Eyes reopening, he fixed her with his piercing icy blue gaze – seeing into her every thought. "Don't you want to know what you are, Elizabeth?"

A horrible, twisted part of herself desperately wished to let him tell her – it was a question that had always plagued her but had recently migrated to the forefront of her mind. "Fuck you," she told him, summoning what little fire she could find to fill the words.

"There's-"

A loud, rumbling noise cut him off. Glancing upwards quickly, keen for any new helpful development, Elizabeth found sudden and complete darkness. Without missing a second, she threw a winding tendril of shadow to the nearest wall and, feeling no sparking reaction, felt a twisted smile pull at her lips. By the time she threw forceful shadows at the door before her, completely breaking it from the solid metal hinges, her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the sudden dark. She watched, thoroughly satisfied, as the man beside Matthew was battered by the now flying door.

Jumping up from her seated position, Elizabeth darted from the room but was quickly forced to dodge another of the electrifying projectiles. Whipping around, she found Matthew holding one of the strange guns in his now shaking hands – having lost all of his practiced composure. The side of her lips quirking up once more, Elizabeth held out a hand and let her shadows crush the gun alongside several of the bones in his hand.

Elizabeth could feel her power shrouding her as she approached him, like some dark aura clinging to her figure, and she could sense the fear she inspired within him. Kicking him in the gut, she laughed as he easily fell backwards – knocking his head harshly against the hard floor. "Not much of a fighter are you, Matty." As she spoke she knelt before him and grabbed his now scruffy collar and pulled his face close to hers. "Don't worry," she told him sweetly, voice like honey, "I'll show you a thing or two."

Her shadows traveled up his arm then, her fingers dancing as she controlled their dark movement, before she clenched her fist and allowed them to pulverize the bones of his forearm. His scream was deafening, and profoundly satisfying, and Elizabeth felt as though her power was swelling exponentially. Holding a finger to her lips, she shushed him loudly. "Don't get too excited, Matty," she whispered, cracking the bones of his remaining arm with a simple flick of her wrist, "there's plenty more to come."

"Steve!"

The yell had sounded from down the hall and Elizabeth grit her teeth. In her laser focus upon Matthew she had seemed to forget there existed a world outside of the pain she was intent on causing him. Feeling some of her fury slip away Elizabeth dropped the man quickly, almost in shock at the violent torture she had been inflicting – and at how much she had been relishing in it. The sudden rush of power she had experienced also faded, it falling back to its usual thrumming background level.

As she were readying to take off towards this new noise of yelling, a pained groan from her left caught her attention. The other man, still trapped beneath the heavy door, was groaning with each small shifting movement he made. His twisted arm was edging to a toppled over black bag beside him. Head cocking to the side, she stepped closer – silently so as not to gain his attention. The pain twisting his features seemed immense and so she knew his desperation for the bag must be even greater.

As his shaking fingertips finally slid against the material of the bag Elizabeth snatched it from him. Another groan escaped him then, this one filled with anguish alongside pain, but she ignored him in favor of rummaging through the bag. Lifting out a small metal case, so small it fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, she let the bag drop to her feet with a soft thud. Upon opening the case, she was presented with a small needle appearing ready to inject an almost clear blue liquid into whoever chose to use it. Eyes darting to the man now struggling to breath upon the floor, Elizabeth crouched down.

"What is this?" Her question was posed quietly and calmly, but inspired no response. Roughly grabbing his twisted arm, Elizabeth squeezed and twisted it further, inspiring a scream from him.

"It- ah - heals," A hoarseness had overtaken his voice, one she suspected was due to his difficulty breathing. "Please..." His other hand were reaching out to her, to the needle which she held, but she stepped away. _Should she believe this man?_ Elizabeth didn't know, she supposed he had no reason to lie and no other reason to have wanted it so badly, but she couldn't be sure. Wishing she had time to interrogate him further, but knowing she should get moving soon, she tucked the case into her pocket and crouched once more.

Reaching hastily into the man's jacket, feeling around for a weapon of any kind, she felt something sharp and solid held against his side. Cursing that he was merely armed with a knife and nothing a little more exciting, Elizabeth pulled the knife from his side and stood, knowing she needed to hurry to wherever Steve, Sam and Bucky had been taken.

Sparing a last and lasting kick to Matthew's prone figure, earning a satisfying yelp, she took off running towards the sounds of yelling.

The scene she ran into was almost as chaotic as the one she had just left. Prone bodies lay all around, scattered so widely it was almost difficult to avoid tripping on them, and she could hear Steve's commanding and now almost fiery tone echoing from a room down the hall. "Who are you?"

Following his booming voice, she found herself within a small and grey room. The room was dark, the faint glow from the adjacent hallway being the only working source of light, and she strained her eyes to make out the figure of Steve in the room. "Steve," she practically whispered the word, speaking it mainly to announce her arrival, but he swiftly turned to her.

Pushing the man heavily against the wall before releasing him, leaving the man to slide down the wall, he strode to her. "Thank god you're okay," his hands were upon her shoulders, head bent slightly to survey her features, "what did they do?"

"Later, Stevie." She told him shortly, feeling as though there were far more important things to be concerning themselves with right then, "where's Bucky?"

As his eyes dropped from hers her heart dropped with them. "I don't know, the lights went and everything..." he huffed, shoulders drooping, "everything went wrong."

Pushing past him, feeling desperate and reckless, she faced down the man now curled in on himself against the wall. Crouching down she lifted her hands to his temples, fingertips just skimming the clammy skin, and summoned shadows. Steve didn't question her, nor did he try to stop her, and she knew then that he was just as desperate as she.

Closing her eyes, she let herself sink into the mind of the man before her. She felt his anger, his hate and his overwhelming disdain for them all.

A yelp quickly escaped him as he felt her in his every thought but it was instantly overshadowed by a louder yell from somewhere behind her. Ignoring the shuffling sounds of a commotion that distantly echoed within her focused mind, Elizabeth delved deeper.

Hands pressed fully against his face now, she felt him flinch as she saw a young woman and child smiling up to him – a memory that brought sadness flaring through his mind as she pulled it from him. Pushing past it quickly, feeling no pity for this man who had likely gotten them into this mess, she delved deeper and ignored the fatigue threatening to slow her frantic search. There were words ringing repeatedly through his head, ones she recognized as Russian, and she heard them as though they were being whispered slowly into her ears. His pronunciation was rough and shaky at best but it was enough – enough for what, she wasn't sure, but she felt the victory shining through the bleak misery in his head.

Pain exploded in the side of her head then, her mind being thrown from the man's deepest thoughts as she crashed heavily to the side. The air felt as though it had been knocked entirely from her but she looked up quickly, confused as to what had just happened.

The room was spinning wildly around her, vision blurred as pain sliced through her skull, and she spotted Sam's prone figure laying to her left. A shadow fell over her figure then, blocking what little light bled through the doorway, and as she looked up she felt a panic curl into her chest.

Bucky was stood over her, the walls appearing to twist around him as her eyes desperately struggled to focus, but it wasn't really _him_.

She cursed shakily as he stepped forward menacingly, and she felt herself flinch as her arms worked to pull her backwards and away from him. Fear, pure and unadulterated, was coursing through her veins like ice freezing its way through her entire figure. A shaking hand fumbled to the knife she had slid into the waistband of her jeans and she almost dropped it to the floor as she gripped the handle. She had faced down much more, survived far greater danger than this, but nothing ever seemed to scare her like he did.

His name passed her lips then, her voice high and almost inaudible as she pointlessly tried to appeal to his long retreated mind. Her hasty shuffling backwards was brought to an unwelcome end as her back hit the cold and unforgiving wall behind her. "Stop please," it was no use, he wasn't listening.

As his hand gripped her hair and pulled her harshly to her feet a mantra started running almost involuntarily through her mind; _you have to fight back, you have to fight back, he'll kill you, you have to fight back_. Whatever survival instinct that had sprung this mantra upon her was weak and barely enough to convince her, but she heeded her mind's warning nonetheless. Throwing an arm out to jab at his throat she hoped she could at least steal the breath from him long enough to escape, but he easily evaded her poor attempt.

Her slick hand was barely able to maintain its grip upon the knife as she weakly held it out in front of her. The way she were holding it was against what she had been taught, her skill fleeing her as she desperately looked into his blank features, but it wouldn't make any difference; she knew she wouldn't stab him.

A flash of movement behind him captured her attention for a split second, eyes darting towards it and then back to him so quickly she almost didn't see the man whose mind she had just recently been inside fleeing from the scene. The sight of him filled Elizabeth with an idea, one she begrudgingly accepted as her only real option. Wetness upon her cheeks, her grasp on the knife failing, she grit her teeth and raised her free hand to his face.

Fingertips brushing his temple she summoned her shadows instantly, having little time to fix his mind before he killed her, and she distantly felt his hand encircle her wrist and her grip upon the useless knife falter further as her eyes slammed shut. Barging past whatever ideas and thoughts had been implanted in his head, she delved deeper until she found his now muted and silenced memories.

The knife disappeared from her grasp as she threw as many of his memories of her to the forefront of his mind and before the first had even begun to play she felt it slammed into her stomach. She barely felt the pain as she concentrated her limited energy on forcing him to feel every memory she could find.

Her smiling up at him with a careless laughter in her eyes as the wind whipped her hair all around her; the retreating sight of her solemn figure waving her first goodbye to him as the train took him from her; the sound of her laugh as she glanced to him over her shoulder, his hand clasped in hers; the feel of her pressed against him as she whispered that she loved him. _Don't forget me_ , she whispered into his mind, distantly feeling blood seeping from her stomach and covering her in warmth.

A physical absence registered before her as she felt his mind spark back into autonomy. Immediately pulling herself away she felt herself slide down the wall, no longer supported by his menacing figure, and she opened her now heavy eyes. He hadn't moved far from her, appearing to have only taken a single step backwards, but he now seemed rooted to the spot. Bloodied hands held out before him, he seemed to be watching her still warm blood dripping from his shaking fingers with horror.

The sight of so much blood painting his hands caused her to drop her eyes to her stomach. The knife was still embedded in her flesh, a mere sliver of the silver blade visible as the rest disappeared inside her, and blood was quickly soaking everything.

Dazed, she brought a hand to her stomach and felt the wetness there as her fingers slid across the soaked fabric of her shirt. Feeling her shadowed power desperately pushing at the blade in her belly, trying to heal what it could with the blade still in place, she lifted a hand to grasp the slick handle of the knife. Feeling pain flare through her as she merely touched the handle, a choked gasp escaping her as she did so, she knew she would never managed to pull it out herself.

"Bucky," she called, trying to sound as strong as she could possibly manage. As his eyes turned to her, she saw his panic double and his eyes widen further. Swallowing thickly, feeling what tasted like blood rising in her mouth, she prayed she didn't look too pale and spoke again. "It's okay," her reassurance fell flat as her blood began to pool around her – the hand she had pressed to her stomach doing nothing to ease the flow. "I need your help."

She watched as he blinked rapidly, perhaps hoping his vision was tricking him and that none of this was even real. Finding his reality painfully unchanged, he took fast and stumbling steps before dropping to his knees at her side. "Lizzy," her name was spoken hoarsely as his shining eyes met hers, "I- I'm sorry I didn't..." Eyes roaming her figure now, he seemed to lose his words entirely.

Gritting her teeth she raised a bloody hand to his face and pulled his gaze back to her eyes. "It's gonna be okay," unsurprisingly, considering the growing pool of blood beneath her, he didn't seem to believe her, "I need you to take the knife out."

Eyes widening further, he pulled back from her slightly as he shook his head frantically. "No, Lizzy I-I can't."

"You have to," she told him simply, the blood loss beginning to cloud her brain, "I'll be okay."

"You'll bleed out," his voice was still panicked as he moved an arm behind her back – holding up her increasingly slouching figure.

Managing a weak smile, she shook her head slowly. "I'm already bleeding out, Bucky." It was true, were she a normal human she likely would have died already. "You have to trust me," she told him weakly, her fingers beginning to tingle as she dropped her hand from his cheek to his chest.

He searched her face for a long moment, uncertainty and fear warring in his eyes, before he squeezed them shut and nodded; "okay." Relief flooded through her and she rested her head upon his shoulder, her face pressed into his neck as she closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Lizzy."

The words barely registered as the sudden pain of the knife being removed flooded her every sense. A scream tore past her lips, making her throat ache with its guttural nature, but the noise was muffled as she pressed her face further into his figure.

A surge of power flowed to that spot and she could feel a slight itch as her power began stitching her back together. Pulling her head from where it was rested upon his shoulder, she glanced down at herself. It was hard to tell how well it were healing as the stain of her blood so sharply covered everything she could see. Fingers gripping the hem of her now dark red shirt she pulled the fabric over the wound.

She tried to use her hand to wipe away her blood but her hand was so covered that it proved ineffective. A gasp escaped her as she felt cold metal upon her skin but she didn't push him away as his cool fingers lightly traced over the slick skin there, his fingers paused over the area that the knife had pierced and he locked his gaze with hers. "It's... gone," the relief in his voice was practically tangible and she decidedly would not ruin it by telling him how much damage she could still feel beneath the surface.

"Told you," she whispered shakily, feeling whatever sudden adrenaline she had previously experienced draining from her system fast.

The arm around her back tightened then, pulling her forward as he embraced her tightly – she winced slightly as the movement pulled at the damage within but placed her arms around him nonetheless. She had almost lost him, all over again – his mind being pulled away from her yet again and she wasn't even sure how it had happened; how, then, was she supposed to keep it from happening again?

"I thought I-" He cut himself off quickly and she felt his fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt. "I thought I'd-"

"It wasn't your fault," she cut him off quickly, knowing what he had thought he had done and deciding that letting him say it out loud would do nothing to help either of them. Pulling back, she pressed her forehead to his and watched his solemn eyes settle heavily upon hers. "I'm okay – look at me," she instructed as his eyes fell from her, "I'm here, I'm fine." Biting her lip, she begrudgingly informed him; "we have to go." Pulling slightly back from her, he nodded solemnly and turned his head to glance out the door. "Where's Stevie?" As she asked she made to sit up, almost wincing as she did so, despite still relying on his arm around her to keep her upright.

Awkwardly shifting his gaze, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, he made to move away from her. Trying not to pout as his arm left her, she watched as he stood and told her; "I'll er... get him."

Nodding, gritting her teeth a little too much to speak as a pulling pain flared within, she watched him go. As he left the room she finally let out a deep and shaking breath and pushed a searching hand into the pocket of her jacket. As she felt metal against her fingertips she pulled the container free and clicked it open without hesitation. Her power _was_ healing her, she could feel it tingling at her wound, but it wasn't fast enough – they needed to escape and quickly, and right now she knew she was in no state to so much as stand.

This was risky, she knew, yet still she pressed the needle against the thin skin at the crook of her elbow. The needle tore a hole and she felt the strange coolness of the liquid as it entered her veins and quickly spread throughout her entire arm. Tossing the now empty needle aside, hearing its delicate form shatter upon impact, she heaved herself to her feet. Elizabeth couldn't say how this serum she had injected herself with was meant to feel, or how quickly it would work, but she didn't have time to stop and consider the unfamiliarity now running through her veins.

They needed to leave, and _fast_.

* * *

 **Hey guys!**

 **Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you liked this chapter and if you did I would really appreciate a review! I'm super excited for next chapter, especially the aftermath of what just happened, but I've got a busy week coming up so it may be a teeny bit later than usual :/**

 **As usual big thank you to _LadyPorterfield, and .2018_ for their reviews! **

**So, I would love if you left a review with any thoughts, questions, theories and anything else! Also big thanks to those who favorited and followed last chapter, it really makes my day!**

 **Until next time!**


	27. Chapter 27

"Who was he?" Elizabeth bit her lip hard at the tenseness held within Steve's question as she watched Bucky's almost nervous avoidance of his stare.

Sam and Steve were stood, arms crossed and stoic before him whilst Elizabeth had sat cross-legged, in a strangely childlike way, off to his right. His eventual, downcast response of "I don't know" seemed insufficient to Steve.

"People are dead," he began, voice betraying how unsettled this conspiratorial turn of events had left him, "The bombing, the set-up; the doctor did _all_ that just to get ten minutes with you." Elizabeth knew Steve's anger was directed at whoever had caused this mess but she worried it would only push Bucky further from them – this wasn't his fault and she knew how guilty he must already be feeling after everything that had just happened. "I _need_ you to do better than 'I don't know.'"

Bucky looked away once more, eyes darting off to his side as he seemed desperate to remember _anything_ that may be useful to them. "I-" he began before scrunching his eyebrows together and shaking his head slightly. "He wanted to know about Siberia," he began, suddenly seeming a little more certain, "where I was kept." Eyes narrowing, it seemed he was straining himself to remember absolutely everything. "He wanted to know exactly where."

"Why?" She asked, picking at her wrist as she watched him closely. He avoided meeting her gaze and she felt frustration pull at her. He had avoided looking at her ever since their run in at the facility and it felt to her as though they were cursed to be constantly going backwards.

"Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier."

Sam cursed under his breath while Steve seemed to have stilled entirely, mouth agape and eyes filled with sudden worry. Elizabeth herself felt the shock of his words like a physical strike; they struggled enough when they fought against just him – the idea of more of them left her feeling almost useless. This situation had seemingly sprung up from nowhere and was suddenly escalating beyond their control. "They made... more?" Her quiet and almost stuttering question was clearly indicative of the disquiet raging through her mind. "How?"

He didn't answer but looked instantly towards her, still not quite bringing himself to meet her eyes, and seemed almost guilty as he clasped his hands before him. Steve answered for him, his mind seeming to tick over far quicker than hers had. "Stark."

As soon as the name left his lips Elizabeth felt her head fall into her hands, fingers starting to pull at her hair. "Fuck," she muttered, as she felt guilt swarm through her entire being – the taste of bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it down thickly. "What are we gonna do?" She asked breathily, meeting Steve's heavy gaze.

Looking to her for a drawn out moment, seeming to be calculating a response, he slowly turned his attention back to Bucky. "Who were they?"

Heaving a heavy and tired sigh, he glanced back down to his hands before responding. "Hydra's most elite death squad, more kills than anyone in Hydra history."

"They all turn out like you?" Sam asked, voice terse to match his crossed arms and scowling expression.

"Sam," Lizzy scolded shooting him a tense look only for him to raise a questioning eyebrow to her.

"Worse." Was Bucky's dry reply.

"The doctor, could he control them?" Elizabeth nodded along to Steve's question, glancing to Sam warningly.

"Enough." He was being so vague and Elizabeth couldn't fathom why. Maybe he felt ashamed, embarrassed that he had been a part of all that – or maybe the events that had just occurred were still playing through his mind on a constant loop as they were hers. Although, if she were honest with herself, were she the one being asked so many questions about her history with Hydra she doubted she would be even this pliant.

Silence stretched before the group for a long while then, each of them silently thinking over everything; everything that had just happened, everything they had survived and everything that was about to happen.

"So," Steve's voice finally broke the surface and Elizabeth could tell that he was about to entirely change the subject and she could feel a pit of dread forming in her stomach. "You know who we are."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact; acknowledgement of something so suddenly obvious.

For perhaps the first time since he had stabbed her, Bucky's eyes met hers. The motion was overt, for a supposed super-assassin he didn't seem very subtle, and Steve clearly noticed it. Elizabeth felt her mouth drop open, as if she were about to speak, but she couldn't think of a single thing to possibly say. Should she pretend to be just as curious as Steve? Just as uncertain of their old friend's mind? Or should she tell him the horrible truth; that she had been consistently lying to him about something so important?

Her fractious and floundering thoughts were interrupted by a rather muted utterance of her name and, looking to Sam's stern features as he spoke, she grit her teeth and steeled herself. "Stevie," she began lightly, feeling as though she certainly weren't ready for this conversation but finding no clear way of escaping it.

His eyes flickered to hers and she almost backtracked, almost told him something else entirely, too afraid of those warm eyes freezing over but her mind reminded her that she was likely already too implicated by Bucky's look and Sam's stern word. "Stevie, I..." she paused again, biting her lip, "I saw Bucky a while ago... when I told you I was looking after that dog." His suddenly heavy gaze hadn't shifted from her, as she had expected and almost hoped it would, but had instead remained entirely trained upon her – staring almost into her mind as she spoke.

Eventually, he did turn his heavy gaze away and, as she heaved a breath through her nose, she watched him turn the gaze to Bucky. "You found him?" Bucky looked almost as guilty as she felt and she couldn't fathom why; he hadn't been the one to lie so openly to Steve and he certainly hadn't realized she had kept this much from him.

Although his gaze had since averted from her, Steve's question was clearly aimed to her. "Not exactly..." trailing off she folded her fingers together and scratched at her palms absently. "He... found me." This confession sprung from her awkwardly, unsure as she was how this truth would affect his already openly negative reaction. His silence scared her more than any words of anger and denouncement could have hoped to and she soon found herself spilling words forth almost unconsciously. She told him _everything_ ; from that first time in Central Park to their last phone call before everything went to hell. She told him everything and anything to fill the terrible, heavy silence settling upon the cold room.

Too soon, however, she could find no more sating words of explanation and fell quickly into silence alongside him.

Finding nothing else to fill her suddenly disquiet mind she found herself watching his face for any sign of telling emotion. His jaw was working furiously, clenching and unclenching so obviously that it was clear to Elizabeth how unsure he was of how to react to this unexpected news. His eyes had fixated so heavily upon nothing at all – the faraway look to his eyes indicating just how much was occurring in his mind. She only hoped these thoughts would push him to react positively or, at the very least, as positively as could be expected.

The drawn out silence that had engulfed them all for so long was broken suddenly as he turned to her and spoke. "Why didn't you tell me?" She could understand his suddenly accusatory tone, she couldn't begin to imagine the betrayal she would surely feel were their places switched, but her understanding did nothing to reduce the sting she felt as he spoke.

Glancing sidelong to Bucky, not sure it were really best to explain her reasoning in front of him, she bit her lip. When she looked back to the hurt unbidden within Steve's eyes, however, she knew she had little choice. "Because it was _awful_ , Stevie." She told him imploringly, "I was with him and my head was... all over the place." She held back her bad language, the word 'fucked' having been on the tip of her tongue, knowing it would likely only anger him more. "He was _so_ close to being Bucky, our Bucky, but he _wasn't_ – at least, that's what he _told_ me." Glancing then to Bucky, fully this time, she let mild annoyance at his lies show in her eyes as she continued. "I thought he didn't know me, didn't know _us_ , and it was horrible – I could barely cope with it myself and..." she shrugged, finding it harder to explain than she could have imagined, "I don't know... _I_ couldn't face it, Stevie, so I didn't tell you."

She watched Steve as her words processed in his mind, a hand ruffling through his hair as he remained in silent contemplation for what felt like years, before he dropped his gaze and gave a small dismissive nod.

"We need a plan, to get to Siberia and we need help." Steve's words addressing Sam only, she felt herself shrink further into herself; arms crossing over her chest as she gripped at her sides almost violently.

"I know a guy." Was Sam's reply, but his eyes were stuck to her figure in an almost apologetic manner, "but we're gonna need a car."

Lips twisting, Steve nodded and looked to the door. "Let's find one."

Jumping up from her seated position, desperate to contribute something positive to the suddenly sour mood, she eagerly offered her help. "I can help you," her mind had flickered with a sudden optimism and she attempted to inject it into her tone, "I'm better at jacking cars than either of you."

Steve finally looked to her then, his gaze falling short of her eyes and his eyebrows pinching awkwardly, as he shook his head. "You can't go out like that." He told her, gesturing to her bloodstained clothes before turning back to Sam. "We'll get some new clothes too," with that he walked from her.

Sam strayed behind a few moments longer to offer an attempt of a comforting shoulder squeeze and a hushed utterance of "he'll come around, Lizzy," before hurrying after him.

A long and heavy breath escaped her as she watched them go, her hands now idly pulling at the hem of her tattered shirt. "Lizzy?"

She took a long moment to compose herself, trying to stop the wetness from stinging at her eyes, before turning to face him with an overtly forced smile that looked more akin to a grimace. "How are you feeling?" She asked, strangely polite but feeling unsure how to act, as she crouched before his seated figure. She could see bruises forming around his left eye and it looked as though he had a deep wound somewhere just above his hairline. Frowning at the damage she could see, she lifted a hand to find where the blood was seeping from only for him to swiftly catch her wrist and pull his face away.

Feeling confusion, and a strange pang of rejection, Elizabeth felt her eyebrows pinch as her lips twisted downwards. "Bucky?" The waver in her voice was telling and so she quashed it entirely in her next words, "I can heal it." Her words didn't seem to register to him as his head fell into his hands – fingertips rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he heaved a heavy sigh.

Watching him, she felt as though he were exhibiting everything that she was currently feeling; all the weariness and uncertainty and fear that was filling her head. Unsure what else to do, she placed a warm hand upon his shoulder – hoping it would soothe him as it once had. At the feel of her light touch he looked back to her, eyes guilty as he watched her. Knowing the cause of his guilt, having hoped it would have subsided on its own, she felt herself sigh heavily. "Bucky," she began lightly, trying to sound unaffected by what had happened but likely failing completely. "It wasn't your fault."

His eyes sharply met hers then and she could practically feel the disagreement emanating from his dangerously still figure; he was winding himself tighter and tighter over this, blaming himself so harshly for something that really wasn't his fault. Shaking his head he stared her down as he answered, "I should have stopped it, all this time away from them and..." his eyes traveled down to the bloody mess that her shirt had become and he trailed off appearing to lose focus for a moment. "I thought you were gonna die," he told her shakingly, a telling shine forming in his eyes as he appeared to remember the scene so vividly.

She bit back her thoughts of agreement over how dire the situation had been and opted instead for a more optimistic answer. "But I didn't," it was the best she could do; the only positive she could feasibly think of.

"You didn't see it, Lizzy." He told her, eyes appearing haunted and she felt as though she was only now beginning to understand how deeply this had affected him. "There was so _much_ blood, on me, on you... it just wouldn't stop," his voice was beginning to crack and his eyes had closed against the memory, but he continued through it. "I thought..." he squeezed his eyes shut then and shook his head as though attempting to clear the memory from his head, "I really thought you were gonna die."

Feeling tears well in her own eyes as she watched the pain twist his features she pulled him to her. The heave of his shoulders felt heavy against her as she held him close, a soothing hand sliding through his dirtied hair as she attempted to provide any form of comfort. She felt his hands on her back, pulling her closer still, and she repressed a shiver at the cold touch of metal. She couldn't say exactly how long they stayed like that but she felt he needed it; the reassurance that she was real and solid and completely alive.

Eventually she pulled herself back but didn't stray far from him, keeping a hand against the side of his neck – her thumb tapping lightly against his jaw, as she watched his eyes carefully. "Neither of us are gonna die." She spoke with such conviction, such unwarranted certainty, that even she began to believe this truth she was spinning. Her hand had moved to his cheek, keeping his focus on her and her words of certainty. "I don't care what else happens, we're getting through this. Okay?"

His lips twisted downwards, mind clearly working too fast – too hard – to accept anything she was saying. "What if-"

"No matter what, Bucky." She told him resolutely, cutting off his words of uncertainty.

The upwards pull of his lips was something he tried to fight, she could tell, but the emotion cracked through his resistance regardless. "Okay," he assented quietly giving a small nod. Satisfied that he felt at least somewhat better, despite knowing there likely remained some trouble on the edge of his every thought, she pulled away and stood from her crouched position. "But," giving him a sharp look she shook her head quickly, an action he smiled in response to but did not heed. "But what if someone gets in my head again?" Not thinking, she moved forward and ran her hands through his hair – a familiar and soothing action she could distantly remember doing time and time again almost half a century ago. It would strike her later just how easy it was to fall back on such familiar and openly affectionate actions towards him.

"Then I'll kick 'em out again." She told him softly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the word.

There was a conflict in his eyes as they watched her intently, he _wanted_ to accept her words without restraint but his uncertainty kept pulling him back to reality, his hands beginning to absently fiddle with her bloodied shirt. Pulling the fabric from his fingertips she knew he needed more, more reassurance and perhaps even more fantastical proclamations of an uncertain truth. Leaning forward, pressing her forehead to his and closing her eyes, she breathed her next words to him so quietly she wasn't sure he would even hear them. "You're not gonna hurt me, Bucky."

She could feel his hands at her sides, gripping her as though afraid she would float away at any moment. "I already have."

"No," she told him strongly, " _you_ didn't do that. _You_ never would."

The hands gripping her relaxed fractionally, their hold becoming more soothing than alarming and, without thinking, she closed what little gap remained and pressed a light whisper of a kiss upon his lips before pulling away entirely.

"I missed you." A smile filled with reminiscence pulled at her lips as she looked down at him. Bucky; right there before her, no false pretenses, no false memories - just him.

Eyes looking up to hers, he let a wry smile twist his lips. "Yeah?"

Hands still idly mussing his hair as she looked down to him, she nodded with a small hum of affirmation.

* * *

"Wait, who is this guy?" As she asked Elizabeth shifted awkwardly in the cramped and uncomfortable backseats. The car Sam and Steve had managed to procure barely seemed big enough for one person, let alone the four of them.

"He gets really small, Lizzy." Sam replied, twisting in his seat to look back at her. "Did you get hit in the head or something?"

Rolling her eyes at his sarcastic questioning, she averted her gaze to the window and replied absently. "I got that bit, Sam, but how'd _you_ meet him?"

"Chance," he supplied shortly, trying to shrug her question off.

Feeling a smirk quirk at her lips she raised her eyebrows, "little defensive huh, Sam?" Her words slurred slightly near the end of her question, tiredness beginning to pull at her mind.

The silence he gave in reply quirked her interest and she knew there must be some sort of embarrassing, and thus highly entertaining, story behind his meeting with this 'ant-person'. Fingers picking at the tatty fabric of the backseats, she rested her head against the window and felt her heavy eyes begin to slide closed. A large and likely unattractive yawn escaped her then and she pulled her knees up to her chest.

"Lizzy, you need to sleep." Picking her head up from its resting place instantly, she locked eyes with the reflection of Steve's. It had been hours since he had so much as looked at her, let alone addressed her. The words were clipped and short but it was more progress than she had thought to even hope for.

Nodding dumbly at him, she felt her mouth fall open in surprise. "Uh... y-yeah," she eventually stuttered out, having thought her need for sleep was more than obvious. The dark night that had rushed in around them had prompted this tiredness to pull at her eyes but she doubted she would be able to sleep properly in such cramped conditions. Glancing around, as though looking for some kind of solution she bit her lip and looked towards Steve once more. "I don't know if I'm gonna be able to sleep in here, Steve."

Almost in silent answer to her statement, he pulled the car into a dimly lit motel lot. None of them moved for a short while, each of them surveying the dreary motel before them with some level of uncertain suspicion before tiredness proved overwhelming and prompted them to action. As the four of them exited the ridiculous yellow car she could hear the vehicle almost groaning in relief at being freed from such a heavy load. She had found it quite remarkable really, that the car had even managed to move with them all inside.

Legs feeling like jelly as she stood, having been cramped in the backseats for so long, she meandered behind the other three. The walk to the reception was short but before Sam could pull open the wonky door to the reception Steve turned to her. "You have any cash?"

Shaking her head silently, she bit her lip and rubbed her eyes tiredly – feeling herself beginning to sway on her feet.

Looking to Bucky, she gave a lazy smile as she watched him pull a single shining coin from his pocket and held it out to her. "I've got a penny," he told her meekly, presenting it to her as though it were some incredible prize.

Plucking the coin from his fingertips she turned it over in her hands, running her thumb over the face of the coin. "So we're like a tenth of the way there," she informed them cheerily.

"Well I got the other ninety percent," Sam told them, pulling a few notes from his jeans and passing them to Steve with a nod.

"Nah, I'm keeping the penny," she told them, leaning heavily against the stone wall beside her.

Her eyes closed as her head fell against the wall, blonde hair falling over her tired features as she heaved a heavy breath through her parted lips.

* * *

"Okay, stay out here," he nodded to Steve as he moved to enter the dreary reception area but Bucky kept his eyes warily on Lizzy's slouching figure; the last thing she needed was to collapse here on the street.

Once the door squealed shut behind Steve's figure the silence hanging in the air became something heavy and terse. Letting his eyes shift from Lizzy for a short moment he looked to Sam awkwardly. The man clearly wasn't too keen on Bucky and he could understand the distrust of him but it still irked him somewhat. Steve and Lizzy were _his_ friends, it sounded ridiculous and childish but he couldn't help the mild annoyance he felt over this person he had never met having such distrust of him around his oldest friends.

 _Although_ , a dark voice in the back of his mind reminded him, _he had almost killed Lizzy twice now._

Trying to suppress those thoughts and instead remind himself of Lizzy's calming words of reassurance, he took an immediate step forward when he saw her figure stumble forward. His outstretched arm proved useless, however, as the other man beat him to it. A twinge of aggravation shot through him as Sam slipped his arm around her waist and held up her drooping figure with some effort. "Jeez, Liz when did you get so heavy?" Sam's voice was strained with effort.

"I'll take her," he offered a little too quickly and a little too obviously. In response Sam merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow and shook his head, shifting Lizzy's weight awkwardly. "I'm stronger than you," it probably wasn't the best thing to say to this man who already had an obvious distaste for him but he couldn't help that it was true.

"You're also the reason she's half-dead right now." Bucky took a literal step back at his words, feeling them like a physical blow to the chest as he dropped his hands to his side awkwardly. Neither Steve nor Lizzy had so blatantly and plainly spelled this truth out for him. He had known, of course, that it was true but hearing it put to him in such an accusatory tone hit him harder than expected. His mouth opened and closed dumbly, as he drew in a shaking breath – quickly realizing that there was absolutely nothing he could say to refute that statement.

Desperately, he tried to replay that conversation he had shared with Lizzy; where she had somehow managed to assuage his guilt. This conversation, however, was bringing the sting of guilt back with full force.

It felt like an age before Steve opened the door, a set of jangling keys held loosely in his left hand. He paused as he took in the scene before him, leg placed out before him as though he were perpetually about to take a step forward. At the sight of him, Sam's featured showed great relief as he gestured for Steve to take Lizzy's weight. Steve shot Bucky a questioning look, as though he couldn't quite understand why he hadn't stepped up in the first place but Bucky quickly looked down to his muddied boots. Lizzy's weight appeared as though it were nothing to Steve as he lifted her entirely from the ground and nodded towards a dim corridor.

Walking behind the trio, fiddling needlessly with his jacket as he did so, Bucky tried not to think too much; he knew he had a tendency recently to overthink things that he hadn't a hope of changing now. He wondered, as they reached a grey door with a rusted number twelve nailed to splintering wood, if he just needed some sleep – things tended to feel different in the morning; less pressing and terrible than they seemed in the night.

The room was the epitome of basic. A small and grimy bathroom with a door that didn't quite shut was situated at the back while two low and uncomfortable beds took up most of the space in the small room. Lizzy was curled up on the bed closest the window, her knees pulled up to her chest as her back faced the gaudy curtains. A beam of orange light from some nearby streetlight was bathing her sleeping figure and her hair had fallen over her features as she had shifted in her sleep.

After looking through the small room, checking it for what he wasn't sure, he had sat himself on the empty bed nearest the bathroom. The others had left the room, telling him that they needed to talk about what to do next without disturbing Lizzy, but he doubted that was the truth. Lizzy looked to be in such a deep slumber that nothing would rouse her and he suspected they were likely talking about him. He wasn't surprised but he couldn't say the thought didn't make his insides broil with uncertainty.

Looking back to Lizzy, finding his eyes on her far more often than on the door he told himself he would watch, he let out a small breath and reached forward. Lightly sweeping her hair from her face, knowing how much she disliked waking with her hair tangled everywhere, he let his fingertips linger longer than they should have. His light touch seemed enough for her sleeping mind to register as she shifted and curled further into herself, a hum of comfort leaving her as she buried her face further into her pillow.

A ghost of a smile twitched his lips and he pulled his arm back, looking guiltily to the door before running a hand through his hair. As if on cue, the door clicked open and his eyes sharply turned back to the now opening door.

Sam stepped through first, giving him a sidelong look as he walked to the bathroom without a word. As Steve stepped into view he kept a hand on the door, holding it open and Bucky could make out the dim street still empty behind him. Considering that Steve had left the door open it was fairly obvious that he wanted to talk to Bucky and, wiping his now clammy hands, he nodded and stood from the bed.

* * *

 **Whew, that took longer than expected! I didn't realize just how busy I was gonna be but happy new year everyone! To make up for taking so long I tried to make this chapter a little longer for you. There's less action in this than the last but not to worry we'll be diving back in very sooon!**

 **As usual a massive thank you to reviewers from last chapter; _.2018, 17 Daybreak and LadyPorterfield!_ Your guys' feedback always makes me smile and each review spurs me on to write more! **

**Thanks to those who followed and favorited last chapter and I'd love to hear any feedback, questions, theories or anything else you guys might have for me! Until next time guys...**


	28. Chapter 28

"You okay?" In this grim parking lot, thinking back on all that had happened, it seemed incomprehensible to Bucky that this was his first question.

A little taken aback he felt a familiar suspicion pull at his brain, "yeah?" he answered, his intonation suggesting a question rather than an answer. This uncertain tone appeared to go unnoticed as Steve nodded briefly to himself, "are you?"

Dirtied fingers rubbed absently at his eyes as Steve nodded solemnly. "What happened back there?" This was the question he had expected first but, somehow, he had no answer. "It's not gonna happen again is it?"

"No," he answered quickly, too quickly. "I don't think so," he amended.

Lips twisting downwards, Steve shook his head, eyes looking out into the sky as though deep in thought. "I'm sorry but I'm gonna need more than that." Gesturing to the motel room, as though he needed to enunciate his point, "I can't let that happen to Lizzy again."

Eyes dropping to his shifting feet, Bucky nodded glumly. He felt conflicted, torn in two almost. There was great relief that Steve was clearly so protective of Lizzy but to know that he was considered a threat - that was too much. But he _was_ , he had almost killed her twice now and he could barely even promise that it wouldn't happen again. "He said the words," he explained, knowing that honesty would be his only shot at gaining trust once again. "They're like triggers, everything Hydra put inside me is still there… all he had to do was say the goddamn words."

Arms crossed over his chest, Steve watched him with consideration for a drawn out moment. "How did she fix it?"

Shrugging, still feeling a scratching remnant of her in his mind, he gave what little answer he could provide. "I-I don't know… suddenly everything was just…her." This was something he barely understood himself. The way she had hijacked his brain and spilled herself into his every thought was almost impossible to describe. "Did you know she could do that?"

"Not until recently," Steve told him, a deep worry lining each word.

His gaze followed Steve's to the motel door and he muttered another question; almost afraid of the answer. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know." He could sense how heavily that answered weighed on Steve and Bucky felt the weight of it settle upon his shoulders. "She wouldn't tell me anything."

Steve's eyes were upon him and he knew this gaze would be full of questions. Thus, he kept his own gaze to his shoes.

Deflecting, rather obviously, he spoke into the silence. "It's not her fault you know," the words were murmured lowly into the night as though they held some deep secret that only the two of them were to ever know. "I don't know what I would've done," It was true, had their roles been reversed would he have told Steve about Lizzy? He wasn't so sure.

And, were it Steve in that position, he likely would have done the same thing too. Steve would likely have held onto more remorse and would have agonised over it much more but, in the end, he would have reacted the same way she had. "I know," was Steve's eventual response, the words coming out more like a breath than actual sound.

* * *

Her mind awoke slowly and begrudgingly. Squinting against the light that befell her freshly opened eyes she pulled the thin comforter further over herself. The air was frigid wherever it nipped her skin and she shivered, doubting that she would be able to get back to sleep.

A large coat that she recognised as Steve's was hanging neatly over the rickety chair and, biting her lip, Elizabeth sprawled across the bed to grab it. Hastily wrapping herself in it, feeling her already mussed hair knotting further beneath it, she breathed a sigh. The coat warmed her considerably and Elizabeth ventured from the bed to move about the sparse room. The others were nowhere to be seen and there was no indication of where they could have gone.

They likely weren't far but, considering the cascading crescendo of terrible events that seemed to be unfolding around them, she felt worry pinch at her. Knowing she had already exhausted any answers she would gain from this room, she stumbled to the door. Catching sight of the mess that her hair had become in the stained mirror, Elizabeth cringed.

Fingertips worked haltingly through her tangled hair and she cursed several times before her hair seemed even somewhat cooperative. Fingers snagged upon a stubborn knot Elizabeth barely noticed the door swinging open. Having not anticipated this at all she panicked immediately and sent the rickety chair flying at whoever had stepped into the room.

"Fuck!" came a confused yelp from her would-be attacker.

Bucky ducked, his reactions impressive, but the chair caught his left shoulder nonetheless. The chair was likely barely holding together but it still came as a surprise when it splintered into several pieces on impact. Watching the now useless pieces of wood clatter to the faded carpet, she suppressed a smile. Meekly, she glanced up. She felt a laugh bubble up past her lips and the sound was quickly joined by a breathy laugh of his own.

"I thought you were an intruder," she explained between fits of a light laughter.

"and your first line of defence was a chair?"

Shrugging, she crouched to collect the fragments of wood. "I just woke up," came her eventual defence. "I'm a bit… groggy."

The door clicked shut behind him as she rose to her feet and she glanced around for somewhere to deposit the shards. Delicately placing the fragments upon the desk, feeling as though she may as well have left them scattered on the floor, she looked back to him. "Where's Sam and Steve?"

"Getting some back-up apparently," as he spoke she moved to perch on the still messed bed. Briefly she wondered who this back-up would turn out to be before pushing her curiosity aside and humming shortly in response.

The mattress dipped measurably beneath her as he sat beside her, torso leant forward and elbows resting lazily on his legs. The sudden displacement of the mattress had unsettled her balance and she shifted subtly to regain a comfortable position. "Here," his voice distracted her from this re-balancing action as she looked to his face, tilted back to glance her way. Curious eyes glanced to the hand he had outstretched to her and her fingertips pulled the candy bar from his grasp.

Raising her eyebrows to him, a rueful smile pulling at her lips, she chuckled. "Nothing like a healthy breakfast."

As she finished this 'breakfast' neither of them spoke and the silence remained for some time after. Scrunching up the wrapper she attempted to throw in neatly into the waste-basket but failed horribly.

"So," she began strongly, unafraid to break their comfortable silence, "what _is_ the plan?"

Leaning back, bringing himself level with her, he glanced to his hands – now locked together in his lap. "Well," his voice lacked her strength. His mind was likely still overwrought from all that had happened before, "we steal a jet and we go to Siberia." It was the bare bones of their plan, she knew there was likely more to it, but it was enough information regardless. Considering this information quickly, she grit her teeth.

"There's something we have to do first." Her periphery told her that he glanced sharply back to her but she continued her stare forward. _Forward_ , the only direction they could take – relentlessly forward, dealing with catastrophe after catastrophe, until there came an end. But she felt tired, _so tired_.

A warm hand settled uncertainly over hers, gently prying her fingers from where they were aggressively pulling at her skin, and her eyes drifted to his. "What's that?" Lowly he posed his question, voice no more than a murmur, and Elizabeth felt the air shift around her, becoming heavier in a strangely comforting way.

"It's a long story," her own voice had heeded his tone and lowered, almost reverently. "There's a place in Russia, I think it's being used to make some kinda miracle cure-all."

Dragging her gaze back to his, she felt her hand tighten around his, the warmth of his touch soothing what little it could manage. She had imagined his eyes would narrow with unavoidable curiosity; eyebrows pulled together and lips twisted downwards as he wondered what could really be more drastically important than the assassins poised to take over the entire world. But that was not the gaze she was met with and a part of her wished that it had been.

She found his gaze flicking from place to place upon her face and she pulled her lip between her teeth once more, unintentionally pulling his gaze to her mouth for a moment too long. Warmth rushing to her skin, something about his eyes so familiar yet so bittersweet to behold, she spoke his name; a soft utterance that sent his eyes back to hers.

"Okay." Taken aback, not expecting such easy acceptance from him, she felt her eyes widen in a manner that was more than telling. "I trust you." The way he spoke that truth, the warmth in his husky tone as he watched her with that gaze, filled with a love she had thought lost forever, was almost too much to bear.

She could bask in this emotion from him forever, letting herself be filled to the brim by it, but it felt like a lie. It felt deceitful to allow him to love her, not showing him how she had been warped by her long life. Where once he had only known a softness she now housed a cruelty, where he had seen nothing but love she held hate and where he had basked in her warmth there was now a coldness. It felt almost like a trick, letting him love what his memory presented her as while she knew the harshness of reality.

But his lips were suddenly upon hers and she had no strength to pull away, she chased the pleasure and joy he brought greedily – hands curling into his hair as she pressed herself hopelessly closer. Hands, both cold and warm, grasped at her almost desperately. Cold fingertips brushed the bare skin of her back as his almost greedy machinations caused her thin shirt to slide up her back – a sensation she had thought would cause unpleasantness to rear up within her mind but just knowing that it was him, so completely, made it immediately addictive.

Those hands, both trailing a burning path across her skin, pulled her wantingly forward and she complied without question, curling herself easily into him and straddling him as her weight rested on his lap. The breath caught in her throat as he pulled his lips from hers and moved his sought-after attentions to her now arched neck. With his lips leaving open kisses to the skin above her hammering pulse she pressed her body closer still, feeling his own heart hammering so harshly in his chest that she could practically feel it reverberating through her own body.

Unable to smother the soft sighs escaping her parted lips she let her fingertips trace a light path to his jaw before tilting his face up and recapturing his lips with her hungry ones. There were no tactile and teasing touches between them, no calculated caresses, no slow and languid embraces – it was a frenzied need powering them both as they tried to consume one another with rough, wanting touches and impassioned, greedy lips.

A heady haze had enslaved her mind as she let herself get wrapped up so completely in him and she felt the rest of the world fade to an untroubling nothingness around her. The sound of a door-handle threatened to slice through this comfort but her soothed mind swept the noise away and it seemed Bucky's mind had ignored it also as the sudden sound of a voice in the room came as an unwelcome surprise to them both.

"I think we bett- oh, um," pulling herself away, feeling something cold forming in her chest, she quickly whipped her head around to find where the voice had emanated from. Steve was stood, a hand still clasped upon the door handle, as he gaped at the two of them. Whipping around quickly, almost stumbling over his feet, he left them with a stuttered "I-er I'll wait out here."

Brain having been jarred from the sudden interruption, Elizabeth struggled to form a coherent response until the door had clicked shut behind Steve's now rapidly retreating figure. Scrambling from where she had practically attached herself to Bucky she hastily flattened out her clothes and felt her gaze sweeping across the room. Body turning to the door, readying for a rushed exit, she felt his hands on her once more; no longer greedy but firm and strong, grounding her to the spot even as she wished to escape.

"Lizzy, don't." Those simple words held so much emotion, too much for her frazzled mind to unpick at that moment, but she could understand somewhat. The panic in his eyes surely reflecting her own, his blossoming at the sight of hers as he watched her try to push him away in some meek attempt at self-preservation.

Steve's presence outside feeling like a heavy weight in the room, she glanced down with a telling and tired sigh. "We have to go," her timid voice held fear and sadness alike – fear of what she had just set in motion and of what it would lead to.

Escaping from his grasp, ignoring the brief and light attempt he gave to keep her there, she turned to the door. As she pushed it open she felt some of the heaviness escape into the open air, like heat rushing from a room, and slipped wordlessly outside. Steve was stood a little way away, a tense set of his shoulders indicating his sudden awkwardness, and she stepped toward him lightly.

Pushing through the barrier of awkwardness that had sprung up between them, she looked up to him with a hand upon her brow to block the shining sun from her eyes. "Are we going?"

Gaze switching quickly, though still obviously, from her to the door behind Steve nodded. Scrutinising, he looked upon her. As his lips parted, ready to pose a question she didn't wish to answer, the door clicked open once more and he seemed to think twice. Lips twisting, as quiet consideration clouded his eyes, he jerked his head toward the parking lot. "Let's go."

"Wait, Stevie?" Halting him with both her words and a hand gripping her arm, she stepped forward. "There's somewhere we have to go first, somewhere I was put in Russia."

Rebuffing her immediately, with a simple shake of his head, he made to step away. "We don't have time."

"Yes, we do," she implored, feeling a strange sense of urgency pulling at her even if she couldn't understand it. Sensing his footsteps wouldn't falter in their journey to the car, she followed after him insistently. "This guy we're after isn't like us, he's not gonna be able to hijack some jet and zoom straight there – we have so much time, and this is important."

Tiredness flickering fleetingly upon his features he stopped and heaved a sigh. "Explain in the car."

Nodding enthusiastically, she stepped forward and led him to the car.

They hadn't travelled far by the time she had finished her hasty explanation, the car having only just reached the outskirts of the city they had found themselves in. The story was thankfully brief, consisting of a mere two encounters and one self-administered and very experimental dose of the serum.

A brief silence hung in the air before questions were fired at her.

"How does that link to where we're going?"

"Was Matthew in Bratislava?"

"When were you last there?"

Blinking a few times, separating the questions from each-other in her mind, she answered each quicker than the last.

"The serum must come from this facility. Dr Killebrew, who ran the place, was trying to remake the super soldier serum but I think he must've made some kinda cure-all instead." As she answered the first question she looked to Steve, hoping she was providing enough to convince him.

"Matthew wasn't in Bratislava but I think they must've been connected – some big ploy to get hold of me and…" awkwardly looking out the window, she answered the last question. "I was last there in 1984 – it's the last place I was held."

A strange awkwardness filled the air then, as though they could sense her hesitation on this topic, but it seemed their curiosity won out. "So this place is Hydra?"

"Not exactly, Killebrew wasn't Hydra but… you could say they had an agreement."

Sam's face seemed to be gaining curiosity rather than losing it, "how do you know all this?"

Biting her lip, she looked to her lap. "Because I was the agreement, Killebrew agreed to let them have whatever serum he could come up with in return for me." Shrugging stiffly, she forced her eyes back up, "I guess he didn't make what they wanted but this serum explains how some of them have lived so long." Quickly approaching the end of her tether, and worried Steve wasn't being convinced quickly enough, she rushed out what she hoped were convincing words. "Look, it's not far from Siberia and if we wait too long they're gonna figure out how to make more and then we'll really be fucked."

Swearing around Steve really wasn't the way to get him on side but talking about her time in facilities always put her on edge. She wanted to be done with this conversation. Eventually, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, he answered. "We need to focus on getting the jet first, then we can talk about where we go first."

Unsettled and unsatisfied, but knowing it was the best she could hope for, she crossed her arms and nodded. Bucky's eyes were heavy on her, almost drawing her in, but she closed her eyes in an attempt to shut him out.

* * *

 **Long wait I know, but I've been so busy and found this so hard to write for some reason! :/**

 **This isn't as long as I planned but I wanted to upload something for you guys and so here we are!**

 **I'm hopeful the next chapter will be released sooner but I can't make any promises! Regardless thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited or followed this story last chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts, theories and questions on this chapter!**

 **Until next time..**


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